THE ESCAPE FROM LIBBY PRISON
It takes a brave man to face danger alone. It takes a braver man to
face danger in the dark. This is the story of a man who was brave
enough to do both. It is the story of one who by his dogged courage
broke out of a foul grave when it seemed as if all hopes for life were
gone and who rescued himself and one hundred and eight other Union
soldiers from the prison where they lay fretting away their lives.
Libby Prison, the Castle Despair of captured Union officers, stood upon
a hilltop in Richmond, the capital and center of the Confederacy. It
was divided into three sections by solid walls, also ringed around by a
circle of guards and there seemed to be no hopes for any of the
hundreds of prisoners to break out and escape.
In September, 1863, Colonel Thomas Rose, of the 77th Pennsylvania
Volunteers, was taken prisoner at the terrible battle of Chickamauga.
From the minute he was captured he thought of nothing else but of
escape, although he had a broken foot which would have been enough to
keep most men quiet. On the way to Richmond, he managed to crawl
through the guards and escape into the pine-forests through which they
were passing. There he wandered for twenty-four hours without food or
water and suffering terribly from his wound. At the end of that time he
was recaptured by a troop of Confederate cavalry and this time was
carefully guarded and brought to Libby Prison. This prison was a
three-story brick building which had formerly been occupied by Libby &
Company as a ship-chandlery establishment. There were several hundred
Union officers imprisoned there when Colonel Rose arrived. First he was
taken into the office of the commandant. Back of his desk was a United
States flag fastened "Union down," an insult for every loyal Union man
that had to pass through this office.
"We'll teach you to take better care of the old flag," remarked Colonel
Rose as he stood before the commandant's desk for examination.
The commandant scowled at this prisoner, but Rose looked him in the eye
without flinching.
"You won't have a chance to do much teaching for some years," said the
commandant at last, grimly, "and you'll learn a lot of things that you
don't know now."
As Colonel Rose went up the ladder which led to the upper rooms and his
head showed above the floor, a great cry went up from the rest of the
prisoners of "Fresh fish! fresh fish! fresh fish!" This was the way
that each newcomer was received and sometimes he was hazed a little
like any other freshman.
Although not as bad as some of the prisons, Libby Prison was no health
resort. At times there were nearly a thousand prisoners crowded in
there with hardly standing room. At night they all lined up in rows and
laid down at the word of command, so closely packed that the floor was
literally covered with them. Each one had to go to bed and get up at
the same time. These crowded conditions made for disease and dirt, and
the place was alive with vermin.
"Skirmish for gray-backs," was the morning call in Libby Prison before
the men got up. Each prisoner then would sit up in his place, strip off
his outer garments and cleanse himself as much as possible from the
crawling gray-backs, as they had nicknamed the vermin which attacked
all alike. The food was as bad as the quarters. Soon after Rose arrived
one man found a whole rat baked in a loaf of corn-cake which had been
furnished as a part of his rations. The rat had probably jumped into
the dough-trough while the corn-cake was being made and had been
knocked in the head by the cook and worked into the cake. Another
officer made himself one night a bowl of soup by boiling a lot of beans
together with a fresh ham-bone. He set it aside to wait until morning
so as to enjoy his treat by daylight. Afterward he was glad he did, for
he found his soup full of boiled maggots. At times the men were
compelled to eat mule-meat and sometimes were not even given that but
had to sell their clothing to keep from starving. In each room was a
single water faucet without basin or tub. This was all that perhaps a
couple of hundred men had to use both for washing and drinking
purposes. The death-rate from disease in these crowded quarters was, of
course, terribly high.
[Illustration: Libby Prison]
From the day Rose entered the prison he made up his mind that he would
not die there like a sick dog if there was any way of escape and there
was not a moment of his waking hours in which he was not planning some
way to get out. Although the prisoners were not supposed to have
communication with each other or from outside, there was a complete
system under which each one had news from all over the prison as well
as from the outside world. This was done by a series of raps
constituting the prison telegraph. As the guards usually visited the
prison only at intervals in the daytime, the prisoners managed to pass
back and forth down through the chimney throughout the whole prison in
spite of locked doors and supposedly solid walls. Messages and money
were frequently sent in from outside. A favorite trick was to wind
greenbacks around a spool and then have the thread wound by machinery
over this money. Gold pieces were sealed up in cans of condensed milk.
Maps, compasses and other helps for escaping prisoners were sent in a
box. In order to prevent suspicion of the fact that the box had a
double bottom, two double bottoms were placed on the box side by side
with a space between them. When the contents were turned out, the
prison inspectors could see the light shining through the bottom of the
box and were thus convinced that there could be no double bottom there.
Letters were sent in containing apparently harmless home-news. Between
the lines, information as to routes and guards was written in lemon
juice. This was invisible until exposed to heat, when the writing would
show.
Colonel Rose was placed in the topmost room of the eastern wing. This
was named Upper Gettysburg. From there he saw workmen entering a sewer
in the middle of a street which led to the canal lying at the foot of
the hill on which the prison stood. He at once decided to tunnel into
this sewer and crawl through that into the canal which was beyond the
line of the guards. With this plan in view, he began to explore the
prison. One dark afternoon he managed to make his way down through the
rooms to one of the dungeons underneath, which was known as Rat Hell.
This had been used as a dead-house and was fairly swarming with rats.
As he was fumbling around there he suddenly heard a noise and in a
minute another man came in. Each thought the other was a guard, but
finally it turned out that the intruder was a fellow-prisoner, a
Kentucky major named Hamilton. This Major and Rose at once became fast
friends and immediately planned a tunnel from a corner of Rat Hell
after securing a broken shovel and two kitchen knives. They had no more
than begun this, however, before alterations were made in the prison
which cut them off from this dungeon. By this time the other prisoners
had noticed the midnight visits of Rose and Hamilton as well as their
constant conferences together and it was buzzed around everywhere that
there was a plot on hand to break out of Libby. For fear of spies or
traitors, Rose decided to organize a company of the most reliable men
and plan a dash out through one of the walls and the overpowering of
the guards. Seventy-two men were sworn in and everything was arranged
for the dash for freedom one cloudy night. The little band had all
gathered in Rat Hell and sentries had been placed at the floor opening
into the kitchen above. Suddenly footsteps were heard and the signal
was given that the guards were making a tour of inspection of the
prison. In perfect silence and with the utmost swiftness, each man went
up the rope-ladder to the floor above and stole into his bed. Rose was
the last man up. He managed to reach the kitchen and hide his
rope-ladder about ten seconds before the officer of the guard thrust
his lantern into the door of the lowest sleeping chamber. Rose had no
time to lie down, but with great presence of mind sat at a table and
stuck an old pipe into his mouth and nodded his head as if he had gone
to sleep while sitting up and smoking. The guard stared at him for a
moment and passed on.
The next day the leaders decided that some news of the attempt must
have reached the authorities outside to account for this sudden and
unusual visit. It was decided to raise the numbers and make an
immediate attempt. The band was increased from seventy-two to four
hundred and twenty. With the increase in numbers, however, there seemed
to be a decrease of courage. Many of the officers feared that it was a
hopeless plan for a crowd of unarmed men to break through a ring of
armed guards and that such an attempt would merely arouse the town and
they would be hemmed in, driven back and shot down in crowds inside the
prison walls. Finally a vote was taken and it was decided to abandon
this plan.
Once more Rose and Hamilton found themselves the only two left who were
absolutely resolved on an escape. After talking the matter over, they
decided to begin another tunnel. This time they had only an old
jack-knife and a chisel to work with and they could only work between
ten at night and four in the morning. They started back of the kitchen
fireplace and there removed twelve bricks and dug a tunnel down to Rat
Hell so that they could reach this base without disturbing any other
prisoners and without being exposed to detection by the guard. One
would work and the other would watch. At dawn each day the bricks were
replaced and the cracks filled in with soot. They had no idea of
direction and this tunnel was nearly the death of Rose. The digging was
done by him while Major Hamilton would fan air to him with his hat, but
so foul was the air below ground that bits of candle which they had
stolen from the hospital would go out at a distance of only four feet
from the cellar wall. In spite of this terrible atmosphere, Rose dug
his tunnel clear down to the canal, but unfortunately went under the
canal and the water rushed in and he had a narrow escape from being
drowned. By this time both men were so nearly exhausted that they
decided to take in helpers again. Thirteen men were chosen to work with
them and were all sworn to secrecy. The flooded passage was plugged and
a fresh one started in the direction of a small sewer which ran from a
corner of the prison down to the main sewer beyond. Night after night
in the mud and stench and reek underground they dug their tunnel. At
last they reached the small sewer only to find that it was lined with
wood. The only cutting tools they had were a few small pen-knives. With
these they slowly whittled a hole through the wooden lining and the
fourteen men were all in high hopes of an escape. The night came when
only a few hours of work would be necessary to make a hole large enough
to enter the small sewer. It was then hoped they could all crawl from
this into the larger one and down into the canal safe past the guards.
Once again they were all grouped shivering at the entrance to the
tunnel, waiting for the man who was working inside to pass the word
back that the opening was made. Suddenly the news came back that the
entrance into the large sewer was barred by planks of solid, seasoned
oak six inches thick. The chisel and the penknives were worn down to
the handles. For thirty-nine nights these men had worked at the highest
possible pitch under indescribable conditions. There was not an inch of
steel left to cut with or an ounce of reserved strength to go on
farther. Despairingly, the party broke up, put away the kits which they
had prepared for the march and once again Rose and Hamilton were left
alone by their discouraged comrades.
After a day's rest, these two decided to start another tunnel in the
north corner of the cellar away from the canal. This tunnel would come
out close to the sentry beat of the guards, but Rose had noticed that
this beat was nearly twenty yards long and it was decided that in the
dark there would be a fair chance of slipping through unseen. Once
again Rose and Hamilton started on this new task alone. They had
finally obtained another chisel and this was the only tool which they
had. Once more Rose did the digging. Hamilton would fan with all his
strength and Rose would work until he felt his senses going, then he
would crawl back into the cellar and rest and get his breath. The earth
was dragged out in an old wooden cuspidor which they had smuggled down
from their room and Hamilton would hide this under a pile of straw in
the cellar. The tunnel became longer and longer, but Rose was nearly at
the end of his strength. It was absolutely impossible to breathe the
fetid air in the farther end of the tunnel, nor could Hamilton alone
fan any fresh air to him. Once again, and with great difficulty, a new
party of ten was organized. These worked in shifts--one man dug and two
or three fanned the air through the tunnel with their hats, another man
dragged the earth into the cellar and a fifth kept watch. The first
five would work until exhausted and then their places would be taken by
the second shift. They finally decided to work also by day and now the
digging went on without interruption every minute of the twenty-four
hours. Finally, the little band of exhausted workers had gone nearly
fifty feet underground. They were on the point of breaking down from
absolute exhaustion. The night-shift would come out into Rat Hell and
be too tired and dazed to find their way out and would have to be
looked after in the dark and led back to the rooms above like little
children.
Rose, in spite of all that he had been through, was the strongest of
the lot and could work after every other man had fallen out. It was
still necessary for the tunnel to be carried five feet further to clear
the wall. Once again a sickening series of accidents and surprises
occurred. The day-shift always ran the risk of being missed at
roll-call, which was held every morning and afternoon. Usually this was
got around by repeating--one man running from the end of the line
behind the backs of his comrades and answering the name of the missing
man. On one occasion, however, there were two missing and a search was
at once begun which might have resulted in finding the entrance to the
tunnel. There was just time to pull these two up out of the dark and
brush off the telltale dirt from their hands and clothes and tell them
to lie down and play sick. Neither one of them needed to do much
pretending and they both showed such signs of breakdown that the prison
inspector came near sending them to the hospital, which would also have
delayed operations. The next day, while one man was inside the tunnel,
a party of guards entered Rat Hell and remained there so long that it
was evident they must have suspected that something was going on.
Colonel Rose called his band together for a conference. He believed
that two days of solid work would finish the tunnel. The rest of the
men, however, pleaded for time. They were half sick, wholly exhausted
and discouraged. Rose decided that he would risk no further delay and
that the last two days' work should be entrusted to no one except
himself. The next day was Sunday and the cellar was usually not
inspected on that day. He posted his fanners and sentries and at early
dawn crawled into the tunnel and worked all day long and far into the
night lying full length in a stifling hole hardly two feet in diameter.
When he dragged himself out that night, he could not stand but had to
be carried across the cellar and up the rope ladder and fanned and
sponged with cold water and fed what soup they could obtain until he
was able to talk. He then told the band that he believed that twelve
hours more of work would carry the tunnel beyond the danger line. He
slept for a few hours and then, in spite of the protests of the others,
crawled down into the reeking hole again, followed by the strongest of
the band who were to act as fanners.
For seventeen days they had been working and the tunnel was now
fifty-three feet long. In order to save time, Rose had made the last
few feet so narrow that it was impossible for him to even turn over or
shift his position. All day long he worked. Night came and he still
toiled on, although his strokes were so feeble that he only advanced by
inches each hour. Finally it was nearly midnight of the last day and
Rose had reached the limit of his strength. The fanners were so
exhausted that they could no longer push the air to the end of the
tunnel. Rose felt himself dying of suffocation. He was too weak to
crawl backward, nor had he strength to take another stroke. The air
became fouler and thicker and he felt his senses leaving him and he
gasped again and again in a struggle for one breath of pure air. In
what he felt was his death agony, he finally forced himself over on his
back and struck the earth above him with his fists as he unconsciously
clutched at his throat in the throes of suffocation. Thrusting out his
arms in one last convulsive struggle, he suddenly felt both fists go
through the earth and a draught of pure, life-giving air came in. For a
moment Rose had the terrible feeling that it was too late and that he
was too sick to rally. Once again, however, his indomitable courage
drove back death. For some minutes he lay slowly breathing the air of
out-of-doors. It was like the elixir of life to him after long months
of breathing the foul atmosphere of the prison and tunnel. Little by
little his strength came back and he slowly enlarged the hole and
finally thrust his head and shoulders cautiously out into the yard. The
first thing that caught his eye was a star and he felt as if he had
broken out of the grave and come back again to hope and life. He found
that he was still on the prison side of the wall, but directly in front
of him was a gate which was fastened only by a swinging bar. Rose spent
some moments practicing raising this bar until he felt sure he could do
it quietly and swiftly. Just outside was the sentry beat. Rose waited
until the sentry's back was turned, opened the gate and peered out,
convincing himself that there was plenty of time to pass out of the
gate and into the darkness beyond before the sentry turned to come
back. He then lowered himself again into the stifling tunnel, drew a
plank which he found in the yard over the opening, after first
carefully concealing the fresh earth, and crept back again into Rat
Hell.
It was three o'clock in the morning when Rose gathered together his
little band and told them that at last Libby Prison was open. Rose and
Hamilton, the leaders, were anxious to start at once. They had seen so
many accidents and so many strokes of misfortune that they urged an
instant escape. The others, however, begged them to wait and to leave
early the next evening so that they could gain a whole night's start
before their absence was found at the morning roll-call. With many
misgivings, Rose at last consented to do this. The next day was the
most nerve-racking day of his life. Every noise or whisper of the guard
seemed to him to be a sign that the tunnel had been discovered. The
time finally dragged along and nothing happened and once again the
party met in Rat Hell at seven o'clock in the evening of February 9th
and Rose and the faithful Hamilton led the way through the tunnel to
freedom. Every move was carefully planned. The plank was raised
noiselessly and Rose had taken the precaution to leave the gate
half-open so that the sentry on duty that night would see nothing
unusual. He found it just as he had left it. All that was necessary now
to do was for each man to wait until the sentry had passed a few yards
beyond the gate and then to start noiselessly through and out to
freedom. All thirteen escaped easily. The last man left a message that
the prison was open to any one who dared try the tunnel. By nine
o'clock that night the message flashed through each ward that the
colonel and a party had escaped. There was a rush for the hole at the
fireplace and one hundred and nine other prisoners slipped through and
got safely past the guard. After days and weeks of hiding, starving and
freezing, the original party and many of the others got safely through
to the Union lines.
Castle Despair had again been broken by Mr. Great Heart.