Reminiscences of a Prisoner of War and His Escape

by Daniel Avery Langworthy

We remained in Charleston until the yellow fever was so bad that it was difficult to keep a guard to guard us, as they were on duty most of the time and were more exposed to the hot sunshine and yellow fever than we were. In the latter part of September we were moved to Columbia, South Carolina, to higher ground and supposed to be exempt from the fever. Arriving there in the afternoon we remained one night in the city near the station. The next day we were moved across the Saluda river and camped on an open field. The second day we were there we noticed the assembling of quite a force of colored men at a house not far away and we suspected that it might mean the building of a stockade around us. Some one said: "If we are going to try to get away from here it would be well to do so before we are fenced in." I said: "We have a large moon now, which makes it very light at night. This morning it set at about 2:30, tomorrow morning it will be an hour later, hence we must plan to get away tomorrow morning after the moon has gone down."

After talking it over, two of my friends, Captain Aldrich and Lieutenant Tewilliger, both of the Eighty-fifth, and myself, decided we would make an effort to escape. We each got a blanket and a little food and waited. In the afternoon one of my lieutenants said to me: "Are you going to make a break tonight?" "I am thinking of trying," I replied. "Don't you think you are taking a great risk?" he asked. "Yes," I replied, "but is it not a greater one to remain here?" "That may be true," he answered. I concluded that he thought so too, for later he made his escape but was recaptured.

We, of course, looked the ground over carefully. Three sides of our camp were clear fields, the other was near the woods, but at the edge of the woods was a high tree fence, which we could not get through without making a noise which would attract the attention of the guards. Near one corner was a vacant schoolhouse, which was used by the reserve guard. A little distance from this schoolhouse and near the guard line was quite a knoll. We decided that would do, that if we could get over the knoll we would be out of sight. In the latter part of the night we went in that direction and as near the guard line as we thought it prudent and sat down under a small tree. While there two other comrades, Captain Starr and Lieutenant Hastings, both from New York state, came along, looked us over and inquired what we were waiting for. They also sat down.

It was much cooler than at Charleston, so much so that the guards built fires on the guard line. The guards were changed at 3 o'clock. The man whose place was on the beat which we wished to cross did his duty faithfully. There had been a fire at one end of his beat, but it did not entice him. He was walking his beat steadily.

As the moon was nearing the horizon, one of the comrades said: "If you start when that man is near this end of the beat as you are crossing the guard line he will be at the other end of his beat, he will have turned around and will see you for there is a fire on both sides." We said: "Yes, but we think we will try it. We will go abreast so if he shoots he must fire through one before he hits the next." When the moon was well down and the guard neared our end of his beat, we started, going carefully. We were crossing his beat when he arrived at the other end, he did what he had not done before, he stopped with his back towards us, took his gun from his shoulder, stooped over and began to look after the fire. We thought then, as we did several other times, that we were favored by our Heavenly Father.

We went over the knoll and stopped to get our bearings. Soon I saw two men coming over the knoll, and said: "Boys, they are coming for us; we will not run." But as they got near us we saw that it was Captain Starr and Lieutenant Hastings. When they saw the guard stop with his back toward us they of course came, so we were five instead of three. We worked our way through to the woods, got a quiet place and stayed there through the day where we could hear the calls at the camp. That morning I cut a hickory walking stick, which I used on the trip, and have it yet.

It was fortunate for us that Lieutenant Hastings joined us. He had escaped once and had been captured by a posse with dogs, had changed his clothing and now wore a Confederate uniform, which we thought would permit him to pass for a Confederate. He was a bright young attorney and after the close of the war was attorney general for the state of New York.

After dark we started. We took a northwesterly course, being guided by the north star, and kept in the woods. About 10 o'clock we heard dogs, and said: "Hastings, what is that?" He replied: "A pack of hounds, and they are on our trail." I said: "Turn up your soles," took out the bottle of turpentine which I had kept so carefully for months, put some on the bottoms of all of our shoes, turned a square corner and we all ran as fast as we could in another direction. After a little we saw we were coming to the edge of the woods, where there was a road and beyond an open field. Just then Hastings said: "The dogs have struck the turpentine—hear them—they are not barking, but whining; they are whipping them to make them follow the trail, hear them howl, but they won't do it—the turpentine is too strong for them."