Great Escapes

[samgrant]

Here's the story of Edward Willis, 12th Georgia, who was captured, but made his escape by staying in bed.


"THE PRISONER'S GUARD REVERSED.


EXTRACT FROM A LETTER OF CAPT. EDWARD WILLIS TO HIS MOTHER


CAMP NEAR PORT REPUBLIC,
June 14, 1862.


On Saturday, the 7th inst., I was seized with a chill followed
by high fever, when, about dusk, a courier arrived with a note
saying: "The enemy are advancing in force on our left!"


General Jackson immediately ordered his horse, and each of his
staff did likewise, and I with the rest, contrary to the advice
of Dr. McGuire, medical director, and of all of the staff.
But I could not bear the thought of missing a fight,
so I went. We were out riding late in the night air, and as the
enemy would not attack us, we all returned to headquarters, I
feeling much worse.


The next morning I heard that the fight was about to commence,
but I very sensibly determined not to go. After the general and
his staff had gone I lay in bed with my breakfast near me,
thinking about the matter, when I heard the thundering of the
artillery not a half a mile off. I could stand it no longer, so
jumped up (although I was so weak I could hardly stand),
dressed and ordered my horse. Whilst the boy was getting him I
was talking to a little girl on the porch, and among other
things I asked her: "Which she would rather see a prisoner,
General Jackson or myself?" Little did I think whilst uttering
these idle words that I would be taken prisoner in less than
ten minutes. Well, my horse was brought forth, I mounted him
and started for the battle-field.


Port Republic was on my way, and in passing through it I met
our cavalry retreating, followed by men, women and children. I
ordered the cavalry to halt and tried to rally them, but all in
vain. I was so disgusted that I rode on, and, as I saw more
cavalry coming, I thought that I would draw my pistol and rally
them by force. I rode on rapidly, the cavalry coming closer and
closer, cheering, firing pistols, etc., etc. When right upon
them (within thirty steps) I discovered that they were the
enemy's cavalry. I was surprised that they did not fire on me,
so I turned and tried to join them in the charge, thinking thus
to deceive them. But they knew by my gray coat that I was a
"Rebel," and I was soon surrounded by them. A Yankee with a
sabre above my head ordered me to surrender. I knew that he was
a private and refused. I had my hand on my pistol and my spurs
to my horse, and I knew that he dared not cut, for I could have
shot him easily and would have done so. He therefore allowed
his sabre to fall harmless by his side.


A very gentlemanly fellow now rode up and said "Sir, I am a
commissioned officer, hand me your arms." As I was surrounded
by a regiment of Virginia (bogus) and Rhode Island cavalry, and
seeing that resistance or even hesitation was folly, I, yes I,
with all my love for the South and my contempt for the Yankees,
handed him my pistol. It was the one Willie gave me and which I
have shot at many a Yankee. That, I told him, was all the arms
I had. I was then a prisoner, and I bore on with them in the
charge. Our Confederate cavalry corps made a stand and drove us
(Yankees) back, to my delight, though the balls whistled in
rather close proximity to my head, and many a Yankee
bit the dust. After this I was taken before the colonel, who,
to my great joy and surprise, was an old friend--Sprigg
Carroll, of Washington, D.C. He was very glad to see me, and
his delight when I told him I was a member of Stonewall's staff
was uncontrollable. He offered me a drink, which, by the way, I
declined, and, after many friendly questions, he said: "Willis,
if you will give me your word of honor that you will not try to
escape you can go anywhere you please and I will relieve the
guard which is over you." As I was being exposed to a very
heavy fire, and as that fire was from our own men, I accepted
the offer.


Just then our cavalry (Rebel) pressed down on the town; a
regiment of our infantry opened a galling fire, and a stampede
among my captors took place. They made for the river, and I saw
that I could easily escape, as I was left comparatively alone.
But it was too late, I had given my word, so, with a firm
spirit but a sorrowing heart, I dashed into the river with the
Yankee cavalry. A perfect sheet of fire blazed in my face;
saddles were emptied; dead, dying and wounded men and horses
were floating or sinking as we swam that beautiful stream. I
expected every minute would be my last, but I put my trust in
Him, who, in the darkest hour, has never deserted me, and who,
I believe, will carry me safely through the war. If I should
fall, 'tis His will, and no one should complain.


Reaching the opposite bank we entered a thick wood, which the
Confederates shelled to such an extent that we were forced to
leave it and join the main body of Shields' army. To do this we
had to cross an open cornfield exposed to the musketry and
artillery of the Confederates.


I advised the Yankees to run the gauntlet, which we did at
railroad speed, and, as the saying is, "I worked in the lead,"
taking good care to try and keep a Yankee or two to my left so
as to protect me as much as possible. We cleared the field and
I passed the whole Yankee army in battle array. It was a
splendid sight. They called me "Rebel," "Secesh," etc., etc.,
and one fellow hallooed out as I passed the "stars and stripes"
gaily floating in the breeze, "I suppose you see the flag still
floats?" "Yes," said I, "and another waves across the river
still." They asked me hundreds of questions, none of which, of
course, I answered satisfactorily.


In the confusion I lost sight of Carroll, and I was then put
under charge of a guard, which, of course, absolved me from my
parole given to Carroll. From that moment I began to try to
make my escape. I was carried about seven miles to a nice
house, the residence of the widow Ergenbright. I
determined, as I was a little sick, I would take that cue as a
basis for escape, and, as the result shows, it worked well.


I knew I was in a secession house from the following incident:
I was walking up and down the room with my hand to my head
telling my guard how inhuman it was for them to keep me up when
I was so sick, when I heard a sweet voice say: "Never mind, you
will all pay for it." I turned and saw a handsome young lady
with flashing eyes, addressing herself thus to my guard. I knew
that she was my friend, and she so proved herself. In a few
minutes old Mrs. Ergenbright came to me and said, "I can get
you a bed," and asked my guard if I could use it They said I
could. I had a long, pleasant sleep; dreamed I had escaped and
was in the Southern army again. When I awoke my heart almost
sank within me. Different members of the family would come and
cheer me up, but my guard was by me all the time. Miss
Ergenbright was to help me escape by drawing for me a map of
the country. The Federals brought wounded Yankees into the
house, and some of them into my room. Miss Ergenbright
protested that she had nothing for them to eat, although she
brought me every luxury. My guard accused her of trying to get
me to escape, but she answered them defiantly, and among things
said she had two brothers in the 6th Virginia cavalry, Southern
Army, and I had a great mind to say, "and a lover, too," but I
did not.


Well, that night my window was closed, the door fastened, and
two men slept right against it. I had no arms. After thinking
of my lot for some time I dropped into a profound sleep, from
which I was awakened early the next morning by the distant
booming of artillery.


I knew Jackson had whipped Fremont the day before, and that
today he was trying Shields. Upon the issue of this last fight
my captivity and destiny depended.


I saw at once that my safety depended on this issue. If I could
play my cards so as to remain at this house, and Jackson should
whip Shields and pursue him beyond the house in which I was, I
would be recaptured. Thus my escape rested on Jackson's
success, and his distance of pursuit depended on himself and
his men. My slaying at the house depended on myself.


I was accordingly much worse. Oh! I got very much worse! I sent
for a Yankee surgeon, had a lotion prepared, and the old lady
put a horseradish poultice on my throat. All this time the
artillery was heard in the distance; the young lady
bringing me news from time to time. Finally she came up and
told me (in fact I heard them) that the Yankee wagons were
coming back. She said (and I thought, too,) that the Yankees
were beaten.


I listened, and it seemed that the artillery then were getting
further off. My spirits fell, but it was momentary only, for
the wind varied around again, and I saw that they were nearer.


Then confusion began. Wounded Yankees were being brought in.
Ambulances were rolling to and fro, and I could see from the
expression of the faces of the attendant guard that something
was wrong. They would, too, occasionally say, "They are too
strong for us," etc., etc.


Just about this time a Yankee surgeon came in and examined
me--groaning terribly--and he pronounced me unfit to be moved.


They then tried to make me take the parole "not to take up arms
against the United States until duly exchanged." This I refused
very feebly to do. My refusal exasperated them, and they said
that I should go if it killed me. But they were warned by the
artillery, which was thundering "nearer, clearer, deadlier than
before." A dismounted dragoon rushed in and announced their
troops beaten and the Rebels in hot pursuit. They all rushed
headlong from the room. The rattle of the musketry for the
first time could be heard, and directly the Yankees began
retreating by. A regular Manassas stampede followed. My guard,
paralyzed with fear, was afraid to go out--afraid to stay. I
still played my role, grunting and groaning, but awaiting the
auspicious moment to seize him.


Miss Ergenbright rushed up and told me that Colonel Carroll,
with the Federal cavalry covering the retreat, was now opposite
the house and that he would come up and tell me "good bye."
Whilst I was waiting for him, Miss Ergenbright came in again,
and with joy in every lineament of her face cried, "Our cavalry
are here, right out at mother's garden! Get up, you are safe!
Safe!"


A terrible fire from our cavalry carbines verified the truth of
her assertion--the balls whistled by the windows, and I jumped
up and dressed. Carroll hallooed out," Tell Willis his cavalry
is too close, I can't come up. Good bye!" Poor fellow! He was
wounded a minute afterwards, and was rapidly carried off by two
of his troopers.


I ran out, took my guard prisoner, and found that an adjutant
of an Ohio regiment, who had pretended to be my friend the
night before, had taken my three-hundred-dollar horse, with my
saddle, bridle, shawl, etc., etc.

I took the horse of my Yankee prisoner and made the latter get
up behind me and rode back to our lines.


I soon met General Jackson, who was glad to see me, saying with
a smile, "I guess you will stay in bed next time you are sick."
I said I would; told him everything I knew, and went on with my
prisoner, now as his guard.


When I met the Twelfth Georgia regiment such a cheer greeted me
as I never heard before. They were in the advance, and said
they were coming after me.


The Thirty-first and other' regiments all cheered, to my
delight and to the chagrin of my prisoner. I rode on. Everybody
in the army seemed to know that I had been captured,
congratulated me on my escape, and asked me an hundred
questions.


I finally turned over my prisoner, who said to me: "I treated
you well, now you do the same to me, will you?" I instructed
the guard under whom he was placed to treat him well, rode off
with his horse and equipments and joined the army, if not "a
wiser or better," certainly a more experienced man.


I am in splendid health and spirits, and will not get caught
again. I will be more careful in everything."


(unfortunately Willis was later killed at Bethesda Church)

[samgrant]

In front of Evander Law's Alabama brigade, one Union regiment simply melted away save for the color-bearer, who was unaware that there was no longer anyone behind him, steadily advanced with the flag. "Go back! Go back! We'll kill you!" some of the Alabamian's shouted. But still the Union soldier came on. When he got close enough, a few Confederates even stood up and waved him away. Then, remembered an officer in the 4th Alabama, "He finally stopped, deliberately looked, first to the right rear, and then his left rear, and then seemingly for the first time taking in the situation, with the same moderation gathered in the flag, right-shoulder-shifted his charge, came to and about faced as deliberately, and walked back amid the cheers of Law's men, who never saw anything equal to it before or since."

[gary]

The following is not a tale of a massive escape from the Union prison at Elmira, New York or the notorious Confederate prison at Andersonville in Georgia. Rather, it's a tale of an Irishman who got the better of his Confederate captors at Gettysburg. Join us now for the rambling anecdote of one Irishman who defied death, eluded his captors and returned with a captured musket.

"Another incident occured which, under the circumstances, was amusing, and goes far towards displaying the comic side of the Irish character. At a time when the rebel riflemen were annoying the artillerist from their concealed shelter behind the large boulders, etc., Michael Broderick, detailed from the 11th Massachusetts Vounteers, and placed as a driver on the Battery wagon, left his team which was out of danger and came forward to the crest where things were a little lively, and picking up a must which had been dropped by one of the infantry, he was soon engaged with a foe who was evidently behind one of the boulders in the front. Mike was oblivious to the bulets flying carelessly about; he simply had an eye on his man, and to even up the chances, he too sought the friendly protection of a large rock. His strange antics first attracted my notice, and when I took him to task for leaving his team, his reply was, 'Let me stay here, Captain, sure there are plenty back there to look after the horses.' I said no more and Mike again commenced to dance, first on one side of the rock and then on the other, challenging his man to come out and face him; then he woudl dodge behind the rock to avoid, I presume, the privilege of stopping a bullet, then he would jump again shooting, 'Come on now, if you dare, bad luck to you.' He was thus engaged when I last noticed him. At night Mike was reported missing, but early on the morning of the 4d, he reported, with a rebel musket and cartridge belt, stating that he had been taken prisoner and placed in a belt of timber with other Federal soldiers. Watching his chance, he noticed the guards were few and far between, and when the opportunity offered he quickly found a belt and musket and commenced to march up an down like the Confederate guards (his slouch hat and old blouse together with his general make-up aroused no suspicion, as many rebels were dressed similarly). When night came on he marched into the Federal lines, and reported as stated."

[ole]

The following is not a tale of a massive escape from the Union prison at Elmira, New York or the notorious Confederate prison at Andersonville in Georgia.

I'm picking on you, Gary, because you will know I'm not picking on you. The prison at Andersonville was Camp Sumter. What was the name of the prison at Elmira?

It just occurred to me that the names of the camps and their locations are inconsistent. Andersonville is a name everyone knows, but that wasn't the name of the camp. Everyone knows about Camp Douglas. Why isn't it called Chicago? What was the name of the camp at Lookout Point? Rock Island?

Just wandering about in my dotage.
Ole

[gary]

Camp Rathbun for Hellmira. The naming of camps was not after its location. I believe Camp Chase was originally a mustering and training camp for the Union army. When the North needed a place to house PoWs, it was converted. Though I've read a few books by survivors, I'm not very well read on prisons and have not studied them.

[ole]

Gary, thanks for the info. I'm not up on the POW angle either; I just thought it curious that some camps are referred to by their names, and others by their location.
Ole

[samgrant]

A story from John B. Gordon’s Reminiscences Of The Civil War:

“After the battle of Sharpsburg, there was sent to me as an aide on my staff a very young soldier, a mere stripling. He was at that awkward, gawky age
through which all boys seem to pass. He bore a letter, however, from the Hon. Thomas Watts, of Alabama, who was the Attorney-General of the Confederate States, and who assured me that this lad had in him all the
essentials of a true soldier. It was not long before I found that Mr. Watts had not mistaken the mettle of his young friend, Thomas G. Jones. Late one evening, near sunset, I directed Jones to carry a message from me to
General Lee or to my immediate superior. The route was through pine thickets and along dim roads or paths not easily followed. The Union pickets were posted at certain points in these dense woods; but Jones felt
sure that he could go through safely. Alone on horseback he started on his hazardous ride. Darkness overtook him before he had emerged from the pine thicket, and he rode into a body of Union pickets, supposing them to be
Confederates. There were six men on that post. They seized the bridle of Jones's horse, levelled their rifles at him, and ordered him to dismount. As there was no alternative, one can imagine that Jones was not slow in
obeying the order. His captors were evidently new recruits, for they neglected to deprive him of the six-shooter at his belt. Jones even then had in him the oratorical power which afterward won for him distinction at the bar and helped to make him governor of the great State of Alabama. He soon engaged his captors in the liveliest conversation, telling them anecdotes and deeply enlisting their interest in his stories. The night was cold, and before daylight Jones adroitly proposed to the boys" that they should make a fire, as there was no reason for shivering in the cold with plenty of pine sticks around them. The suggestion was at once accepted, and
Jones began to gather sticks. The men, unwilling for him to do all the work, laid down their guns and began to share in this labor. Jones saw his opportunity, and burning with mortification at his failure to carry through
my message, he leaped to the pile of guns, drew his revolver, and said to the men: "I can kill every one of you before you can get to me. Fall into line. I will put a bullet through the first man who moves toward me!" He
delivered those six prisoners at my headquarters.”