The Spy of the Rebellion / Being a True History of the Spy System of the United States Army during the Late Rebellion

by Allan Pinkerton

The prisoners were all turned out for their usual exercise in the yard, on the evening which had been agreed upon; and in accordance with their arranged plan, several of the prisoners surrounded the old turnkey, and engaged him in an earnest discussion, while others set actively to work to dig the grave of Stanton in the ashes. In order that he might not be unbearably uncomfortable, his body only was covered with the contents of the ash-heap, while his head and shoulders were concealed from view by some straw, which one of the men brought from his cell for that purpose.

In the jail, at this time, there were a number of negroes, who had been captured while attempting to make their way to the North, and although these faithful blacks were aware of the attempted escape, and knew full well that they were not included in the movement, their efforts were none the less active in behalf of the white men who were struggling for liberty.

They had been informed of the attempted escape, from the first, and had kept the matter a profound secret, at the same time rendering such service as they were capable of to the whites.

Everything worked to their entire satisfaction. The turnkey was unsuspicious; the grave was made without discovery, and Stanton was carefully concealed. In a few minutes afterwards the call for retiring was heard, and the men, with throbbing hearts, rushed in a mass toward the door of the corridor. This was done in order to escape the counting of their number, in case the old man should attempt to do so. They passed quickly into their cells, and were not required to be counted. Thus far, all had been done as successfully as could be hoped for, or expected; no suspicions were excited, nor was their missing comrade called for. It had been the custom of the old man to make a tour of the cells after the prisoners had retired, to see if they were all there before he went away for the night. In order to overcome this possibility of detection, a figure had been made of straw, stuffed into the garments of the men, and laid upon the bed, in order to look as much like a human being as possible.

This precaution proved to be a good one, for just before the time of closing up the prison arrived, the glimmer of the old turnkey's lantern was seen in the corridor, and shortly after, his face appeared at the door, as he eagerly scanned the occupants of the various cells. Apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, the jailer went his way, the heavy outside doors were closed and locked, and the retreating footsteps of the old man could be distinctly heard.

The critical moment had at last arrived, and they awaited in breathless silence the appearance of Stanton. Fortune favored them in a peculiar manner this evening. As the old man was passing the pile of ashes under which Stanton was concealed, he noticed the unusual appearance of the straw. Stopping for a moment, he drew a match from his pocket, lighted it, and then walked toward the heap as though with the intention of setting fire to it. The match fortunately was extinguished by a blast of wind, and after searching in his pocket for another match, but finding none, he slowly turned, and walked out of the gate, locking it securely behind him.

Stanton's feelings, under this ordeal, may be imagined. If the old man had succeeded in igniting the straw, under which he was concealed, detection would have followed instantly, and no doubt serious injury would have been inflicted upon the brave fellow, who had willingly suffered the discomforts of his unpleasant confinement for the purpose of assisting his comrades to escape.

No sooner had the gate closed upon the jailor, than he crawled nimbly out from his place of concealment, and hastily made his way to the door. He at once began his operations upon the lock. The appearance of Stanton at the door was the signal for the others, and in less than an hour the locks upon the cell doors had been removed. Stanton had wrested the lock from the outside door, and only the iron inside one was now to be overcome. This barrier resisted all their efforts, and it was at last decided that the lock must be removed by main force. This was a proceeding which necessitated a great deal of noise, and they were in an agony of apprehension lest their clamor should attract the attention of people passing on the outside, and thus lead to their detection. To prevent this, the colored men, without any solicitation or instruction, came to the rescue in a very important, though unexpected manner. They commenced to sing in concert, at the top of their voices, snatches of plantation and camp-meeting melodies, which effectually drowned the sound of their blows, and enabled them to work without fear of detection.

The lock at last yielded to their combined efforts, and the men issued silently forth into the darkness of the night, breathing once more the stimulating atmosphere of hope and promised liberty. Only the wall around the prison yard was now to be surmounted, and with the aid of some old planks that were lying around, they succeeded in reaching the top, after which they noiselessly dropped themselves to the ground. Although this wall was very high, they all reached terra firma in safety, and with one impulse breathed a prayer of thankfulness for the success which had thus far attended their efforts.

Silently, and walking in couples, at long distances apart, they started out to leave the city. The sky was clear, and the moon was shining brightly overhead. The stars were twinkling merrily, as though enjoying the success which had attended these brave, patient men, in their labor and toil of days and weeks.