American Prisoners of the RevolutionDandridge, Danske
History
American Prisoners of the Revolution
Dandridge, Danske
United States -- History -- Revolution, 1775-1783 -- Prisoners and prisons
The British sailors endeavored to dissuade him, thinking that he would
probably die on the excursion.
“‘So, to put them all to silence, I again ascended on board, for I had
neglected to take my great-coat. But I put it on, and waited for the
sailing-master. The boat was pushed off, I attempted to row, but an
English sailor said, very kindly, ‘Give me the oar. You are too unwell.’
* * * I looked back to the black and unsightly old ship as to an object
of the greatest horror. * * * We ascended the creek and arrived at the
spring, and I proposed to the sailors to go in quest of apples.”
The sailing-master said to him, “This fresh air will be of service to
you.” This emboldened him to ask leave to ascend a bank about
thirty feet high, and to call at a house near the spring to ask for
refreshment. “Go,” said Mr. Emery, “but take care not to be out of the
way.” He replied that his state of health was such that nothing was
to be feared from him on that account. He managed to get into a small
orchard that belonged to the farmhouse. There he saw a sentinel, who was
placed on guard over a pile of apples. He soon convinced himself
that this man was indifferent to his movements, and, watching his
opportunity, when the man’s back was turned, he slipped beyond the
orchard, into a dense swamp, covered with a thick undergrowth of
saplings and bushes. Here there was a huge prostrate log twenty feet in
length, curtained with a dense tangle of green briar.
“Lifting up this covering I crept in, close by the log, and rested
comfortably, defended from the northeast storm which soon commenced.”
He heard the boat’s crew making inquiries for him but no one discovered
his hiding-place. One of them declared that he was safe enough, and
would never live to go a mile. In the middle of the night he left his
hiding place, and fell into a road which he pursued some distance. When
he heard approaching footsteps he would creep off the path, roll himself
up into a ball to look like a bush, and remain perfectly still until the
coast was clear. He now felt that a wonderful Providence was watching
over him. His forethought in returning for his overcoat was the means
of saving his life, as he would undoubtedly have perished from exposure
without it. Next night he hid in a high stack of hay, suffering greatly.
When the storm was over he left this hiding place, and entered a deep
hollow in the woods near by, where he felt secure from observation. Here
he took off his clothes and spread them in the sun to dry.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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