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.
