When two or three months had elapsed, General Morgan's impatience of the galling confinement and perpetual espionage amounted almost to frenzy. He restrained all exhibition of his feelings remarkably, but it was apparent to his fellow prisoners that he was chafing terribly under the restraint, more irksome to him than to any one of the others.
The difficulty of getting letters from our families and friends in the South, was one of the worst evils of this imprisonment; and if a letter came containing anything in the least objectionable, it was, as likely as not, destroyed, and the envelope only was delivered to the man to whom it was written. Generally, the portion of its contents, which incurred Merion's censure, having been erased, it was graciously delivered, but more than once a letter which would have been valued beyond all price, was altogether withheld, and the prisoner anxiously expecting it, was mocked, as I have stated, with being given the envelope in which it came, as evidence that he was robbed of it. The reader can imagine the feelings of a man, whose wife and children were in far off "Dixie," while he lay in prison tortured with anxiety to hear from them, and who, when the letter which told of them at last came, should be deprived of it because it contained some womanly outburst of feeling, and should be tantalized with the evidence of his loss.
The introduction of newspapers was strictly forbidden, except when Merion, as a great favor, would send in some outrageously abusive sheet, in which was published some particularly offensive lie. If the newspapers, which the convicts who occasionally passed through our hall in the transaction of their duties, some times smuggled into us, were discovered in any man's hands or cell, woe be unto him – a first class sinner could be easier prayed out of purgatory, than he could avoid the dungeon.
Captain Calvin Morgan was once reading a newspaper, that had "run the blockade," in his cell at night, and had become deeply interested in it, when the "night guard," stealing along with noiseless step, detected him.
The customary taps (by the occupants of the other cells who discovered his approach and thus telegraphed it along the range) had been (this time) neglected. "What paper is that," said the guard. "Come in and see," said Morgan. "No," said the guard, "you must pass it to me through the bars." "I'll do nothing of the kind," was the answer. "If you think that I have a paper which was smuggled into me, why unlock the door, come in, and get it." The fellow apparently did not like to trust himself in the cell with Captain Morgan, who was much the more powerful man of the two, and he hastened off for reinforcements. During his absence Morgan rolled the paper up into a small compass, and, baring his arm, thrust it far up into the ventillator at the back part of the cell. Fortunately there was in the cell a newspaper given him that day by one of the sub-wardens named Hevay – a very kind old man. Morgan unfolded this paper and was seated in the same attitude (as when first discovered) reading it, when the guard returned. The latter brought Scott with him and unlocked the door. "Now give me that paper," he said. "There it is," said Morgan handing it to him, "Old man Hevay gave it to me to-day." The guard inspected it closely and seemed satisfied. "Why did you not give it to me before," he asked. "Because," returned Captain Morgan, "I thought you had no right to ask it, and I had, moreover no assurance that you would return it." With a parting injunction to do so no more, or the dungeon would reveal him its secrets, the guard after a thorough search to find another paper (if there should have been a deception practiced upon him) left the cell. He examined the ventillator, but Morgan's arm being the longer the paper was beyond his reach. Captain Morgan's literary pursuits were suspended, however, for that night.
When the news of the battle of Chickamauga was coming in, and we were half wild with excitement and eagerness to learn the true aversion of the reports that prevailed – for every thing told us by the prison officials was garbled – we by good luck got in two or three newspapers containing full accounts of the battle. I shall never forget listening to them read, in General Morgan's cell, while four or five pickets (regularly relieved) were posted to guard against surprise. These papers were read to the whole party in detachments – while one listened, the succeeding one awaited its turn in nervous impatience. As I have said, General Morgan grew more restless under his imprisonment, every day, and finally resolved to effect his escape, at any hazard, or labor.
Several plans were resolved and abandoned, and at length one devised by Captain Hines was adopted. This was to "tunnel" out of the prison – as the mode of escape by digging a trench, to lead from the interior to the outside of the prisons, was technically called. But to "tunnel" through the stone pavement and immense walls of the penitentiary – concealing the tremendous work as it progressed – it required a bold imagination to conceive such an idea. Hines had heard, in some way, a hint of an air chamber, constructed under the lower range of cells – that range immediately upon the ground floor. He thought it probable that there was such a chamber, for he could account in no other way for the dryness of the cells in that range. At the first opportunity he entered into conversation with Old Hevay, the deputy-warden mentioned before. This old man was very kind-hearted, and was also an enthusiast upon the subject of the architectural grandeur of that penitentiary. Hines led the conversation into that channel, and finally learned that his surmise was correct. If, then, he could cut through the floor of his cell and reach this air chamber, without detection, he would have, he saw, an excellent base for future operations. He communicated his plan to General Morgan, who at once approved it. Five other men were selected (whose cells were on the first range) as assistants.
The work was commenced with knives abstracted from the table. These knives – square at the end of the blade instead of pointed – made excellent chisels, and were the very best tools for the inauguration of the labor. Putting out pickets to prevent surprise, they pecked and chiseled away at the hard floor, which was eighteen inches thick of stone cement and brick – concealing the rubbish in their handkerchiefs and then throwing part of it into the stoves, and hiding the rest in their beds. They soon dug a hole in the floor large enough to permit the body of a man to pass. The iron bedsteads, which stood in each cell, could be lifted up or let down at pleasure. Hines would prop his up, each morning, sweep out his cell (in which the aperture had been cut) and throw a carpet sack carelessly over the mouth of the shaft he had sunk, and when the guard would come and look in, every thing would appear so neat and innocent, that he would not examine further. One kick given that hypocritical carpet bag (with its careless appearance) would have disclosed the plot, at any time from the date of the inception of the work to its close. After the air chamber was reached, a good many others were taken into the secret, in order that the work might go constantly on.
The method adopted, then, was for two or three to descend and go to work, while the others kept watch; in an hour or two a fresh relief would be put on, and the work would be kept up in this way throughout the day, until the hour of locking up arrived, except at dinner time, when every man who was absent from the table had to give a reason for his absence. The work, conducted underground, was tedious and difficult, but all labored with a will. The candles which had been purchased and hoarded away, now did good service. Without them it would have been almost impossible to finish the task. A code of signals was invented to meet every possible contingency. By pounding a bar of wood upon the stone floor, those above communicated to those underneath information of every danger which threatened, and called on them to come forth, if necessary. The walls of the air chamber were two or three feet thick, and built of huge stones. Two or three of these stones were removed, and a tunnel was run straight to the outer wall of the hall. Fortune favored the workmen, at this juncture, and threw in their way an adequate tool with which to accomplish this part of their work. Some one had discovered lying in the yard through which we passed on our way to breakfast, an old rusty spade with a broken handle. It was at once determined that the said spade must be secured. Accordingly men were detailed and instructed in their proper parts, and at the first opportunity the spade was transferred to the air chamber, and put to work in digging the tunnel. This is the manner in which that valuable, that priceless, old, rusty, broken spade was gotten: One man was selected to secrete the spade about his person – him I will call No. 1. He wore, for the occasion, a long, loose sack coat. Six or seven other men were his accomplices. It was a usual occurrence for those who were awaiting their turns at the washing troughs, to romp and scuffle with each other in the yard. The conspirators were, this morning, exceedingly frolicsome. At length No. 1 fell, apparently by an accident, upon the spade, his accomplices tumbled in a heap upon him. No. 1 dexterously slipped the spade under his coat, and buttoned it up. He went into breakfast with it, and sat wonderfully straight, and carried it safely into the hall and down into the air chamber.
When the main wall of the hall was reached, the heavy stones of its foundation were removed in sufficient number to admit of the passage of a man. But it was then discovered that the tunnel led right under an immense coal pile. It was necessary that this difficulty should be remedied; but how? Without a view of the ground just outside of the wall, no one could calculate how far, or in what direction to run the tunnel, so that when it was conducted to the surface, all obstructions might be avoided. In this emergency, General Morgan engaged Scott in conversation about the remarkable escape of some convicts, which had occurred a year or two previously, and which Scott was very fond of describing. These convicts had climbed by the balconies, in front of the ranges of cells, to the ceiling, and had passed out through the skylight to the roof of the prison. Scott declared his belief that there were no two other men on the continent who could perform the feat of ascending by the balconies.
"Why," says General Morgan, "Captain Sam. Taylor, small as he is, can do it."
Thereupon a discussion ensued, ending by Scott's giving Taylor permission to attempt it. Taylor, who, although very small, was as active as a squirrel, immediately commenced the ascent, and sprang from one to the other of the balconies, until he reached the top one. He was one of the men who had been selected to escape with General Morgan, and comprehended immediately the latter's object in having him attempt this feat. It would afford him a chance to glance out of the windows at the ground just beyond the wall. As he leisurely swung himself down, he studied "the position" carefully, and his observations enabled them to direct the tunnel aright. Once during the tunneling, while Captain Hockersmith (another of the projectors of the plan) was at work underground, Scott called for him and seemed anxious to find him at once. General Morgan's presence of mind prevented a discovery, or, at least, a strong suspicion of the plot from at once resulting from Hockersmith's absence. The General said to Scott, "Hockersmith is lying down in my cell; he is sick," and he requested Scott to examine and give his opinion upon a memorial which he (the General) held in his hand, and which he proposed forwarding to Washington. It was something regarding our removal to a military prison. Scott (highly flattered by this tribute to his judgment) took the memorial, looked at it attentively for some minutes, and returned it, saying, "I think it will do first rate." It did do. In the mean time, Hockersmith had been signaled, and had "come up," and he made his appearance complaining of a serious indisposition.
While the work was going on, General Morgan and those who were to escape with him habitually slept with their faces covered and their hands concealed. This was done to accustom the night guard to take their presence in the cells for granted, by the appearance of the bulk upon the beds, without actually seeing them. This guard went the rounds at the expiration of every two hours during the night, and he would place his lantern close to each cell door, in order that the light should fill the cell and show the occupant. General Morgan used to say that a peculiar shuddering and creeping of the flesh would assail him whenever this man approached. He would frequently creep about with list slippers on his feet, and he moved then without the slightest noise. He used to remind me of a sly, cruel, bloated, auspicious, night-prowling spider.
When the tunneling approached its completion, all the other necessary preparations were made. The prison yard, into which they would emerge from the tunnel, was surrounded by a wall twenty-five feet high, and means for scaling that had to be provided. There was an inner wall running from the corner of the "East Hall" to a smaller building, in which some of the female convicts were imprisoned, but it was comparatively low, and they anticipated little difficulty in getting over it. The coverlids of several beds were torn into strips, and the strips were plaited into a strong rope nearly thirty feet in length. A strong iron rod, used for stirring the fires in the stoves, was converted into a hook, and the rope was attached to it. Rope and hook were taken down into the air-chamber, where all the "valuables" were stored.
General Morgan had managed to get a suit of citizen's clothing, and the six men who were going to escape with him, were similarly provided. The Warden had prohibited the introduction into the prison of uniform clothing, but occasionally allowed plain suits to be received. The General had also gotten a card of the schedule time on the Little Miami Railroad, and knew when the train left Columbus, and when it arrived in Cincinnati – for this he paid fifteen dollars, the only money used in effecting his escape.
Despite the strict search instituted, when we first entered the penitentiary, several of the party had managed to secrete money so that it was not found. This was now divided among the seven who were to escape. These were, besides General Morgan, Captains Thomas H. Hines, Ralph Sheldon, Sam Taylor, Jacob Bennett, James Hockersmith, and Gustavus McGee. It is plain that, as each man was locked in a separate cell, and could not get out of it by the door, without an interview with the night-guard, it was necessary to cut an opening into the air-chamber, through the floor of each cell, from which each one of the seven would escape. If these apertures were cut from the top of the floors of the cells, the risk of detection would be proportionally increased; so an accurate measurement of the distance between the cells was taken, and with Hines' cell as a point of departure, it was easy to calculate where to commence cutting from underneath, in order that the floors of all these particular cells should be perforated. A thin crust, only, of the cement was left, but to all outward appearance, the floor was as sound as ever.
By means of an arrangement which had been perfected for obtaining all absolutely necessary articles, each one of the party about to escape had procured a stout, sharp knife – very effective weapons in case of surprise and an attempt to stop their escape. When every thing was ready, they waited several nights for rain – trusting to elude the vigilance of the guards more easily in the obscurity of such a night – and taking the chance, also, that the dogs which were turned loose every night in the yard, would be driven by the rain into their kennels, which were situated on the other side of the yard from that where they would emerge. Two or three days before the effort was made, General Morgan received a letter from an Irishwoman in Kentucky, warning him not to attempt to make his escape, from which, she predicted, great evils to him would result. She alluded to his kindness to the poor in Lexington, and claimed that she was informed of the future in some supernatural manner.
On the 26th of November, General Morgan learned that there had been a change of military commandants at Columbus. Well knowing that this would be followed by an inspection of the prison and a discovery of the plot, he determined that the effort should be made that very night. His own cell was in the second range, from which it was impossible to reach the air-chamber and tunnel, but the cell of his brother, Colonel Richard Morgan, had been prepared for him, and when Scott tapped, as usual, on the stove, as a signal for each man to retire to his cell, the exchange was effected. There was a sufficient resemblance between them to deceive a man who would not look closely – especially when they were seated with their faces turned away from the door.
At any rate, Scott and the night-guard, were both deceived, and efforts were made by the occupants of the cells near to both of those, where close inspection would have been dangerous, to attract to themselves the attention of the guard when he went the rounds. As it was especially necessary, on this occasion, to know certainly when the night-guard approached, small bits of coal had been sprinkled, just before the hour for locking up on the floor of the first range, so that (tread as lightly as he would), the slinking cur could not help making loud noise.
It had been arranged that, just after the twelve o'clock visit from the guard, Captain Taylor should descend into the air-chamber and give the signal underneath the floor of each cell. Fortunately, the only man who was vile enough to have betrayed the plan, was absent in the hospital. Six hours elapsed after the locking-in; regularly during that time the night-guard went his rounds, making an awful crackling as he passed along the lower range. Sixty-odd men lay awake, silent and excited – with hearts beating louder and blood rushing faster through their veins than the approach of battle had ever occasioned. Perhaps the coolest of all that number, were the seven who were about to incur the risk.
Twelve o'clock struck, and the clang of the bell seemed to be in the hall itself – the guard passed with his lantern – a few minutes elapsed (while the adventurers lay still lest he should slip back), and then at the signal they sprang from their beds; hastily stuffed flannel shirts with material prepared beforehand, and made up bundles to lie in their beds and represent them. Then stamping upon the floor above the excavations, the thin crust of each gave way and they descended into the air-chamber. They passed one by one along the tunnel, until the foremost man reached the terminus, and with his knife cut away the sod which had of course been left untouched. Then they emerged into the open air and inner yard.
The early part of the night had been bright and clear, but now it was cloudy, and rain was falling. They climbed the low wall and descended into the large yard. The rain had caused the sentries to seek shelter, and had driven the dogs to their kennels. They moved cautiously across the yard – if detected, their knives must have saved or avenged them. Discovery would have been hard upon them, but it would have, also, been unhealthy for the discoverer. They were resolved to be free – they were powerful and desperate men – and if they failed, they were determined that others, besides themselves, should have cause for sorrow. But they reached and climbed the outer wall in safety. There was a coping upon it which they grappled with the hook, and they climbed, hand over hand, to the top. When all had ascended, the hook was grappled upon the inner shelf of the coping, and they let themselves down. When they were all on the ground, they strove to shake the hook loose, but it held fast and they were forced to leave the rope hanging. That circumstance caused the detection of their escape two hours sooner than it would otherwise have happened, for the rope was discovered at day light, and the alarm was given. But time enough had been allowed the fugitives to make good their escape. They at once broke into couples.
General Morgan and Hines went straight to the depot. Hines bought tickets to Cincinnati, and when the train came they got on it.
General Morgan was apprehensive that they would be asked for passes or permits to travel, and arrested for not having them. He saw an officer of field rank, seated in the car which he entered, and it occurred to him that if he were seen in familiar conversation with this officer, he would not, perhaps, be asked for a pass. He spoke to Hines and they seated themselves near this officer and courteously addressed him – he replied as suavely. After a short conversation, General Morgan produced a liquor flask, they were very generally carried then, and invited the officer to take a drink of brandy, which invitation was gracefully accepted. Just then the train moved past the penitentiary. "That is the hotel at which Morgan stops I believe," said the officer. "Yes," answered the General, "and will stop, it is to be hoped. He has given us his fair share of trouble, and he will not be released. I will drink to him. May he ever be as closely kept as he is now."
This officer was a pleasant and well informed gentleman, and General Morgan passed the night in an agreeable and instructive conversation with him – asking many questions and receiving satisfactory replies.
When the suburbs of Cincinnati were reached, a little after daylight, it was time to get off. General Morgan pulled the bell rope and moved to one platform; Hines went to the other, and they put the brakes down with all their strength. The speed of the train slackened and they sprang off.
Two or three soldiers were sitting on a pile of lumber, near where General Morgan alighted. "What in the h – ll are you jumping off the train for?" asked one of them. "What in the d – l is the use of a man going on to town when he lives out here?" responded the General. "Besides what matter is it to you?" "Oh nothing," said the soldier, and paid him no further attention. Reaching the river, which runs close to this point, they gave a little boy two dollars to put them across in a skiff.
In Newport, Kentucky, they found friends to aid them, and before the telegraph had given to Cincinnati the information of his escape, he was well on his way to Boone county – sure asylum for such fugitives. In Boone fresh horses, guides, and all that was necessary were quickly obtained. He felt no longer any apprehension; he could travel from Boone to Harrison, or Scott counties, thence through Anderson to Nelson, and thence to the Tennessee line; and, during all that time, no one need know of his whereabouts but his devoted friends, who would have died to shield him from harm.
A writer who described his progress through Kentucky, shortly after it occurred, says, truly: "Everybody vied with each other as to who should show him the most attention – even to the negroes; and young ladies of refinement begged the honor of cooking his meals." He assumed more than one disguise, and played many parts in his passage through Kentucky – now passing as a Government contractor buying cattle, and again as a quartermaster or inspector.
When he reached the Little Tennessee river, his serious difficulties began; in passing through a portion of Tennessee, he had met friends as truly devoted to him as any of those who had assisted him in Kentucky.
In portions of Middle Tennessee, he was so constantly recognized, that it was well for him that he was so universally popular there. One day he passed a number of citizens, and one woman commenced clapping her hands and called out, "Oh I know who it is," then suddenly catching herself, turned away. The region in which he struck the Little Tennessee river, was strongly Union, and the people would have betrayed him to a certainty, if they had discovered who he was. The river was guarded at every point, and there was no boat or raft upon it, which was not in possession of the enemy. He was, in this vicinity, joined by some thirty nomadic Confederates, and they set to work and constructed a raft for him to cross upon.
When it was finished, they insisted that he and Hines should cross first – the horses were made to swim. While General Morgan was walking his horse about, with a blanket thrown over him, to recover him from the chill occasioned by immersion in the cold water – he suddenly (he subsequently declared) was seized with the conviction that the enemy were coming upon them, and instantly commenced to saddle his horse, bidding Hines do the same. Scarcely had they done so, when the enemy dashed up in strong force on the other side and dispersed the poor fellows who were preparing to cross in their turn. He and Hines went straight up the mountain at the foot of which they had landed. It grew dark and commenced to rain – he knew that if he remained all night on the mountain, his capture would be a certain thing in the morning, and he determined to run the gauntlet of the pickets, at the base of the mountain, on the opposite side, before the line was strengthened. As he descended, leading his horse, he came immediately upon one of the pickets. As he prepared to shoot him, he discovered that the fellow slept, and stole by without injuring or awakening him.
At the house of a Union man not far from the base of the mountain, the two tired and hunted wanderers found shelter and supper, and General Morgan, representing himself as a Federal Quartermaster, induced the host, by a promise of a liberal supply of sugar and coffee, to guide them to Athens. Every mile of his route through this country was marked by some adventure. Finally Hines became separated from him. The General sent him, one evening, to a house, to inquire the way to a certain place, while he himself remained a short distance off upon the road. In a few minutes he heard shots and the tramp of several horses galloping in the opposite direction, and he knew at once that Hines was cut off from him. That night he narrowly escaped being shot – that fate befell a man mistaken for him. At length, after hazard and toil beyond all description, he reached the Confederate lines. Hines was captured by the party who pursued him from the house, and he was confined in a little log hut that night, in which his captors also slept. He made himself very agreeable – told a great many pleasant stories, with immense effect. At length the sentry, posted at the door, drew near the fire, at the other end of the room, to hear the conclusion of a very funny anecdote. Hines seized the opportunity and sprang through the door – bade the party good night, and darted into the bushes. He effected his escape and reached Dixie in safety.
When the escape of General Morgan, and the others, was discovered on the morning after it was effected – there was an extraordinary degree of emotion manifested by the penitentiary officials. The rope, hanging upon the wall, was seen by some one at day light; it was apparent that some body had escaped, the alarm was given to the warden, and his suspicion at once turned toward the prisoners of war.
About 6 a. m., a detachment of guards and turnkeys poured into the hall and began running about, unlocking doors and calling on various men by name, in the wildest and most frantic manner. For some time they were puzzled to determine who had escaped. Colonel Morgan was still taken for the General, and the "dummies" in the cells, which had been vacated, for a while, deceived them into the belief that those cells were still occupied. But at length, a more careful and calm examination revealed the fact and the method of the escape, and then the hubbub broke out afresh. In the midst of it Captain Bennett called out, "Well gentlemen, I like a moderate stir, but you are going it too brash," an expression of opinion which, to judge from the unanimous shout of approval from the prisoners and the laughter they could no longer restrain, met with their cordial indorsement.
It was generally feared that Colonel Morgan would be severely dealt with, and he expected a long term of service in the dungeon; but to the surprise and gratification of all of us, it was announced that he was thought no more guilty than the rest, and should be punished no more harshly. The first step taken was to remove all of the first range men to the third range. Then a general and thorough search was instituted. Every cell was carefully examined, every man was stripped and inspected, every effort was made, after the bird was flown, to make the cage secure.
It was the desire of every prisoner, to secure General Morgan's escape – that was of paramount importance. We were willing to trust to his efforts to effect our release. We were now constantly locked up in our cells, night and day, except when we were marched to our meals and straight back. The cells were, I have already said, very small, and the bed took up half of each. The only method we had of exercising, was to step sideways from one end of the cells to the other. The weather was intensely cold, and when the stone flooring of the hall was removed and a deep trench cut, in order that the damage done by the tunneling might be repaired, the chill arising from the damp earth was terrible.
Every thing which we had been allowed in the way of luxuries was now forbidden, except books. We were forbidden to speak while at the table, to speak aloud in our cells after the gas was lit at night, to address one of the convicts, even those who frequented the hall in which we were confined, no matter what the necessity might be. It would be difficult to enumerate the restrictions which were now imposed upon us, confinement in the dungeon being the inevitable penalty attached to the violation of any of these rules. These dungeons were really very unpleasant places in which to spend even the hours of a penitentiary life – hours which (without the proper experience) might have appeared unsusceptible of additional embitterment. I saw the inside of one of them during my stay in the "Institution," and speak advisedly when I say that the pious stock company which proposed "to build a hell by subscription" for the especially heretical, could have found no better model for their work than it. These cells were rather smaller than the cells in which we were habitually confined, and the doors were half a foot thick, with sheet-iron nailed on the outside, and so contrived that (extending beyond the edges of the door) it excluded every ray of air and light. In all seasons, the air within them was stagnant, foul, and stifling, and would produce violent nausea and headache. In summer, these places were said to be like heated ovens, and in winter they were the coldest localities between the South Pole and Labrador. The rations allowed the inmates of them were a piece of bread about the size of the back of a pocket account book (and perhaps with as much flavor) and half a tin-cup full of water, repeated twice a day. If a man's stomach revolted at the offer of food (after the foul reek of the dungeon) the crop-eared whelp of a she-wolf (who was boss-inquisitor) would pronounce him sulky and double his term of stay.