The following is a letter written by the Ohio boy who occupied a small
tent with William Herrick, and the author of this narrative, in the
convalescent camp at Danville Prison:
Columbus, Ohio, August 26, 1864.
My Friend Eby:—
I was very glad to receive a letter from you, for I had come to
the conclusion that you must be in rebeldom yet, as I could hear
nothing from you, but here it is at last. As I know how _liberty_
feels by this time, I can heartily congratulate you upon your
relief from rebel tyranny.
Since you request me to give a history of my escape, I am obliged
to use a foolscap sheet, and after it is full the half is not told.
I was sick for two or three weeks after you left; recovering very
slowly, and was quite weak when I attempted to execute your plan
of informal exchange. I started in company with another Ohio boy,
with whom I became acquainted while convalescent together, from
Danville smallpox hospital, on the night of the 15th of February,
for the Yankee lines. We received five days’ rations from the
steward, and consequently had plenty to eat without calling on
rebs, until we had got quite out of reach of Danville guards. We
traveled southward, toward Newburn, N. C., thinking that route
more unguarded than the course you took. We passed within five
miles of Raleigh; flanked Goldsboro and Kingston, and succeeded in
getting down within six miles of our lines at Newburn, when we were
captured by rebel cavalry pickets while trying to get something to
eat at a darkey hut.
We doubtless would have got through, if we had not unfortunately
gone inside a terrible swamp, to get outside of which we were
compelled to beat a retreat. We were in the swamp two days and
one night, and came near starving. We afterward learned that it
was ten miles wide, by twenty long, and was a rendezvous for wild
beasts. We were treated very kindly by the guards, but unmercifully
by the officers. We were sent to Wilmington, N. C., where we were
ensconced in an old speculator’s slave dungeon two days, and were
then sent to Salisbury, N. C., and thrown into a prison where were
about a thousand men, consisting of rebel conscripts who would
not fight, Yankee hostages, and Union citizens who had been taken
by Lee in Maryland and Pennsylvania. While at Salisbury I became
acquainted with two young men, belonging to the Potomac army, who
had also endeavored to make their escape, but were recaptured
after a tedious march of 150 miles somewhere in the region of the
Blue Ridge Mountains. We hitched teams at once, and commenced
digging tunnels, but all to no purpose—for after digging three
tunnels from eight to twenty rods in length, we were obliged to
abandon the idea of ever getting out in that way, as they began to
make daily searches for tunnels.
We had been at Salisbury about two months when they notified the
regular prisoners of war that they must be ready for transportation
to Georgia at any moment. We immediately provided ourselves with a
caseknife, filed teeth in the back of it, and prepared to make our
escape while en route for Georgia. We were put on the train about
6 o’clock, the 27th of May, in box or freight cars as usual, with
four guards in each car. The car we were in luckily had windows,
or holes for them, near the ends, and so saved us the trouble of
sawing out. We jumped out of the window in quick succession as soon
as it was cleverly dark, not far from Charlotte, without either
of us receiving any serious injury. The cars were running at the
rate of about twenty miles an hour—in fact that was about the only
time we could jump without being seen by the guards. I jumped last,
and the cars were running on a grade of twelve or fifteen feet in
height which caused me to make several revolutions before I came
to solid earth. I soon gathered up my loose property, comprising
blanket, haversack, and walking stick, but the other two boys
were on hand—and after a jolly laugh over the whole affair, and a
consultation as to the route to take, we set out for the land of
the living again—resolved to fight to the bitter end, rather than
be captured again. We traveled by starlight altogether, and slept
by sunlight. We usually called at a house between dark and bedtime
for something to eat. We succeeded very well in imposing upon the
credulity of secesh, and passed for rebel prisoners who had been in
the Yankee lines so long that they had given us clothes to cover
our nudity. We stole some, begged some, and traded everything away
for eatables, and finally came into our lines at Strawberry Plains,
Tenn., after traveling in eighteen days over 320 miles.
I tell you, Henry, it was an eventful era to us, replete with
amusing incidents, hairbreadth escapes, and dangerous expedients.
I should like to see you and give you a verbal relation of some
funny things. We were all very much worn out when we came into our
lines—but we found a home and thanked Providence for his goodness.
The boys were from the State of Michigan and one of them found his
brother in the 10th Michigan Cavalry, then at that place. We of
course stopped to visit with him. The other, and myself, reported
at Knoxville, and were sent to Chattanooga, where I received a
furlough from Gen. Thomas and came home, he getting transportation
for Detroit City. I have had a good time at home since I got able
to enjoy myself. After my furlough expired I reported at this
hospital, where I am on duty in the dispensary. I do not know
whether I shall go to the regiment or not, probably not. My health
is good, and I am fat. This is not rebel treatment—Oh, Henry, I am
obliged to you for those eatables you left me. I think I should
not have recovered so soon without them. You have the thanks of
our whole family. If you should hear from Dr. Davis, please let me
know, and give me his address, and give him my regards. I had a gay
time with the girls, as you may suppose. (Aside) I came very near
being eat up. I have just read a memorial from the prisoners, to
the President, setting forth their sufferings. They are analogous
to those we endured at Richmond, etc. Please favor me with another
letter, and oblige,
Yours respectfully,
Calvin W. Hudson, Co. D, 65th Ohio.
Address Seminary Hospital, Ward 4, Columbus, Ohio.
H. H. Eby, Esq.
[Illustration: Illinois Monument on Orchard Knob.]