A Civil War Medal of Honor winner was born in Washington Valley, in what was then Warren and is now Watchung, to one of the area's pioneer families. On March 25, 1837, James and Eunice Drake became the parents of a son they named James Madison. A biography written by his father in 1875 states that Drake was "born near Washington Rock." Young Drake moved with his family to Elizabeth in 1846, then to Trenton in 1852 to work as a compositor on a daily newspaper. An alderman in Trenton in 1861 when the Civil War broke out, he raised a company of volunteers and was mustered in as sergeant in the Third New Jersey Militia in April 1861. In October 1861 young Drake joined the Ninth New Jersey Infantry as a sergeant, was promoted to first sergeant in May 1862, second lieutenant in June 1863 and first lieutenant in April 1864. Captured at Drewry's Bluff on May 16, 1864, Drake escaped and made his way back to Union lines. Promoted to captain in l865, he was awarded the Medal of Honor "for gallantry and bravery." A colorful character and journalist after the war, Drake wrote several books, including a history of the Ninth New Jersey. Heavily involved in veterans affairs, he organized a Veteran Zouave drill team that toured the country to great acclaim. J. Madison Drake (as he was known) died in 1913. Drake's greatest Civil War exploit was his escape from Confederate captivity. Taken first to Macon and then Savannah, Georgia, Drake and his comrades were transferred to Charleston, So. Carolina in September. When rumors began circulating in October 1864 that the captives were to be removed yet again to another prison, Drake and three friends hatched a plan of escape, a story Drake himself told in The Story of American Heroism, published in 1896: Early in October rumors prevailed that we were to be removed to some other point, and, believing that an opportunity for escape would present itself, I invited three friends…to join me in the attempt to gain the freedom we so ardently coveted, and for which we had repeatedly and arduously toiled. Providentially we found a portion of an old map of South Carolina, and, carefully studying it, formed a plan of action. Next morning, October 6th, six hundred of us were marched to the depot where we took passage on dilapidated cars attached to a wheezing locomotive. As we passed out of the city we saw a camp on the old race course filled with the most wretched looking beings it was ever my lot to gaze upon. They were Union soldiers, prisoners of war. Their condition was pitiable in the extreme. Although we were greatly distressed, many of us in rags, covered with filth and vermin, and half starved; some sick, others unable to stand or walk on account of scurvy; yet our hearts went out to those brave men who were thus huddled together in the open air, with nothing save the ground for a bed, and Heaven's canopy for covering. The terrible picture of that camp will ever remain impressed upon my memory. My chosen companions and myself had matured our plans; all that remained was to put them into execution. During the day I had taken the precaution to remove the percussion caps from the rifles of the seven armed guards who occupied the car with us. I did this to prevent anyone from being injured should a melee be found necessary in order to accomplish our design of jumping from the train. The shades of night were enveloping the earth as our train reached the long structure which spanned the Congaree River, a short distance above its confluence with the Wateree, and it seemed as if the train would never reach the other side, so great was our anxiety to make a bold stroke for freedom. It would be useless to affirm that my mind at this critical moment was calm and serene, or that I had no misgivings as to what the result of our frightful leap might be. But the intense excitement into which our minds had been thrown the resolve to seek liberty, and home, and friends, came the sense of peril, and the instant Captain Todd gave the long expected signal, we each sprang from the car. We had no time after reaching terra firma to reflect upon the terrors of our new situation. Fortune had so far favored us that was sufficient. But those rifle flashes (we could scarcely hear the reports, so distant was the train) warned us that if we would have perfect freedom much remained to be done, and done quickly…. The swamp we had entered was not such a place as gentlemen of leisure on a pleasure excursion would have selected; on the contrary, it was a very disagreeable refuge, as we could discover no dry ground on which to sit or rest our weary bodies, the water being quite deep. But the fierce baying of the dreaded bloodhounds, and the hoarse cries of our excited pursuers, which we heard throughout the long night, admonished us to submit to every discomfort rather than endanger our highly prized freedom. Convinced that the water through which we waded had destroyed our trail, and that so long as we remained in our present position the dogs would be unable to gain a scent, we studiously avoided all conversation during the night and the following day. A bright, new moon rose to cheer us in our loneliness the next evening, and feeling that our pursuers, finding themselves baffled, had departed, we cautiously made our way to the edge of the swamp, which we found at this point to be bordered by a large plantation. We held our breath as we listened some time for human sounds; finding everything as quiet as a graveyard, emerged from our cover, skirting the right bank of the Wateree River, and promptly pushed forward in our flight toward "God's country," as prisoners were in the habit of calling the North. Before leaving Charleston we had taken the precaution to place pieces of raw onions in our boots, having been advised to do this by an old Tennessee captain, who assured us it would effectually destroy the scent of our footsteps, and thus deprive the dogs of the use of the means by which to hunt human beings. The moon, which was of tender age, was a great assistance to us in our flight for several hours, enabling us to make rapid headway, and to steer clear of anything which resembled a habitation. But it disappeared before midnight leaving nothing but the stars to guide and steer us in our pilgrimage. Toward daybreak, being weary, we halted for a needed rest, and shortly after resuming our journey reached a broad roadway, where we found a milestone marked " 27 to C." The "C" meant Columbia, which we had no desire to visit at this time While considering our course, we were astounded by hearing the baying of innumerable dogs, which came bounding toward us. We stood not upon the order of our going, but went at once, and in the liveliest manner imaginable. A long run enabled us to evade the dogs, and while congratulating ourselves upon our escape, we suddenly ran upon three men standing near a sawmill. Darting into a swamp we again managed to elude our enemies, who, however, continued the pursuit, rendering matters as uncomfortable as possible for us. Fortunately we discovered a log over a small, though deep, running stream, which had put a stop to our headlong flight, and this enabled three of us to cross to the other side. The log snapped in twain while Captain Grant was crawling over it, and his precipitation into the water followed. Despite our imminent danger, we were compelled to lose valuable time in hauling him out upon the bank, and waiting while he enjoyed the luxury of changing his stockings. The jungle which we almost immediately entered, saved us from recapture. We did not emerge therefrom until the following evening, when we found hard ground in the shape of a field where sweet potatoes had recently been dug, enough of which were gathered up to make two or three hearty meals. Before the lapse of a week, however, we met with a terrible misfortune in the loss of our cooking utensils, knives, forks, spoons, towel, several boxes of matches, etc. The rations which had filled our improvised sacks on starting, had given out, compelling us to seek sustenance in the cornfields, swamps, etc. We had found a potato patch which rejoiced our hearts, and were enjoying a banquet in the woods very early one morning, little dreaming of danger in so secluded a spot, when a party of horsemen dashed furiously toward us. Self preservation being the first law of nature, we started headlong in an opposite direction, having no opportunity to save any of the indispensable articles mentioned. Our loss was irreparable, almost the worst thing that could have happened to us. While greater or less dangers constantly menaced, they were as nothing compared with the question of subsistence, which began to grow unpleasantly urgent. Our situation at length became so desperate that it seemed as if we should be driven to the houses of the planters, something we had solemnly sworn not to do under any circumstances, for we knew we should neither receive food nor mercy from them. For several days we wandered in deserted fields, diligently seeking corn, and occasionally finding a stray ear, which, spurred by a ravenous appetite, we managed to masticate, the process nearly breaking our teeth. In camp and on marches we had many a time anathematized government hard tack and declaimed against contractor's beef, but now, crouching in dismal swamps I would have relished the substantial fare which, in hours of plenty, we so execrated. But, with all our troubles, we continued to press on through the dreary days, oftentimes hiding, but determined to reach our homes again, though we had to go through fire to do so. Often and again when on the verge of starvation were we strongly tempted to visit the cabins of the negroes, whom we had almost absolute faith in, but despite this we beat back the tempter (our stomachs), and refused to jeopardize our situation until certain we should find some one in whom to put our trust and with it our lives. We did not make a serious attempt to seek assistance from the slaves until we had reached a point two hundred and fifty miles from Charleston, where, one afternoon, we found a number at work in a field. We experienced no difficulty in persuading them that we were "Yankee officers" escaping from bondage, and as soon as darkness fell they came to our hiding place, and at once took us to the shelter of their humble cabins, displaying great delight at our presence. There was something almost royal in the cheerfully rendered service of these poor creatures, who seemed to look upon us as in some way suffering for their sakes, and they fairly loaded us with kindness oftentimes insisting upon our taking the last pound of their meal. They also gave explicit information as to the best route to the mountains, and, on departing from them, invariably rained down blessings and fervent "God speeds" on our heads. We never, after first meeting the darkies, hesitated to trust them, for we knew they would not betray us, and they never did. We had a strange adventure one night near Dallas, N. C., when we accidentally halted a white man instead of a negro, as we had supposed him to be. We discovered our mistake the moment he answered our summons, which he did in no uncertain way. We acted boldly, subterfuge being useless, since he was heavily armed, as we plainly saw. Necessarily we resorted to conversational strategy, putting and answering questions with wariness. It required but a brief time, however, to discover the status of the stranger, and probably he had never been embraced before with the vehement warmth we displayed when we learned that he was loyal to the Union. He insisted upon our visiting his home, two miles away, which we did by cutting across lots, thus avoiding the mounted patrol who continually scoured the country. His amiable wife speedily prepared an excellent supper to which we did the fullest justice, the smiles and kindly words of our hostess savoring the rich repast…. That night, sitting before the cheerful blaze of that noble North Carolinian's great hearth, he told us the story of the loyalty of the people in the western part of the State, proving to us that the Union still had brave defenders among the hardy foresters of the "Old North State." From that time forward we experienced little trouble in finding Union men. They were everywhere. After a 1,000 mile walk through Confederate territory, Drake and his companions finally reached Union lines at Knoxville, TN, some two months after their daring escape from the moving prison train. © Warren Township Historical Society |