CHAPTER XVII.PRISON LIFE.

"The best o' plans o' mice and menGang aft aglee;"

and all hope of escape for our two worthies was interrupted by the inconvenient fact that a couple of their comrades anticipated them in point of time, and by so doing aroused the guards to such a state of vigilance, that our over-sanguine boys saw there was no chance for them. Consequently Lieutenant Tresouthick's illness vanished as it had come, and he was soon pronounced convalescent.

Mournful news. — How a brave man dies. — New Year's Day. — Jolly under unfavorable circumstances. — Major Turner pays his respects. — Punishment for singing "villainous Yankee songs." — Confederate General John Morgan. — Plans for escape. — Digging their way to freedom. — "Post No. 1, All's well." — Yankee ingenuity. — The tunnel ready. — Muscle the trump card. — No respect to rank. —Sauve qui peut!— A strategic movement. — "Guards! guards!" — Absentees from muster. — Disappointed hopes. — Savage treatment of prisoners. — Was the prison mined?

The Richmond papers occasionally found their way into the hands of the prisoners, and the following mournful item of news is transcribed from one of them. The writer of the ensuing letter was a man about thirty years of age, who was accused by the rebel authorities of having acted as a spy on behalf of the Union government. A gloom hung over the prison for some days after the reading of the article:

Castle Thunder, Richmond, Virginia.Dear Father:—By permission and through the courtesy of Captain Alexander, I am enabled to write you a few lines. You, who before this have heard from me in regard to my situation here, can, I trust, bear it, when I tell you that my days on earth are soon ended.Last Saturday I was court-martialed, and this evening, a short time since, I received notice of my sentence from Captain Alexander,who has since shown me every kindness consistent with his duty.Writing to my dear parents, I feel there can be no greater comfort after such tidings, than to tell you that I trust, by the mercy of our Heavenly Father, to die the death of a Christian.For more than a year, since the commencement of my confinement, I have been trying to serve him in my own feeble way, and I do not fear to go to Him.I would have loved to see you all again; God saw best not; why should we mourn? Comfort your hearts, my dear parents, by thoughts of God's mercy unto your son, and bow with reverence beneath the hand of Him who "doeth all things well."* * * I sent a ring to my wife by a clergyman, Monday last; I also sent a telegram to yourself, which will arrive too late, as the time of my execution is set for the day after to-morrow.Dear parents: there are but few more moments left me; I will try to think often of you; God bless and comfort you; remember me kindly and respectfully to all my dear friends and relatives. Tell Kitty I hope to meet her again. Take care of Freddy for me; put him often in remembrance of me.Dear mother, good-bye. God comfort you, my mother, and bless you with the love of happy children. Farewell, my father; we meet again by God's mercy.Spencer Kellogg.

Castle Thunder, Richmond, Virginia.

Dear Father:—By permission and through the courtesy of Captain Alexander, I am enabled to write you a few lines. You, who before this have heard from me in regard to my situation here, can, I trust, bear it, when I tell you that my days on earth are soon ended.

Last Saturday I was court-martialed, and this evening, a short time since, I received notice of my sentence from Captain Alexander,who has since shown me every kindness consistent with his duty.

Writing to my dear parents, I feel there can be no greater comfort after such tidings, than to tell you that I trust, by the mercy of our Heavenly Father, to die the death of a Christian.

For more than a year, since the commencement of my confinement, I have been trying to serve him in my own feeble way, and I do not fear to go to Him.

I would have loved to see you all again; God saw best not; why should we mourn? Comfort your hearts, my dear parents, by thoughts of God's mercy unto your son, and bow with reverence beneath the hand of Him who "doeth all things well."

* * * I sent a ring to my wife by a clergyman, Monday last; I also sent a telegram to yourself, which will arrive too late, as the time of my execution is set for the day after to-morrow.

Dear parents: there are but few more moments left me; I will try to think often of you; God bless and comfort you; remember me kindly and respectfully to all my dear friends and relatives. Tell Kitty I hope to meet her again. Take care of Freddy for me; put him often in remembrance of me.

Dear mother, good-bye. God comfort you, my mother, and bless you with the love of happy children. Farewell, my father; we meet again by God's mercy.

Spencer Kellogg.

The following account of the execution is from a Richmond paper:

"At eleven o'clock yesterday forenoon, a detail of one hundred men from the City Battalion, marched from Castle Thunder with Spencer Kellogg, the recently condemned spy, in custody.

"The cavalcade reached the scene of execution about half-past twelve o'clock, where, as usual, a vast concourse of people, of both sexes and all ages, were congregated. After a few moments spent in preliminary arrangements, the prisoner was escorted, under guard, to the gallows. While seated in the hack awaiting the perfection of the arrangements for hisexecution, he conversed freely with the utmostnonchalancewith Dr. Burrows, frequently smiling at some remark made either by himself or the minister.

"Arriving under the gallows, the charges preferred against the accused and the sentence of the court-martial were read. A short but impressive prayer was then offered by the minister, at the conclusion of which the condemned man, unaccompanied, mounted the scaffold.

"In a few moments Detective Capehart followed, and commenced to adjust the rope over the neck of the condemned, in which he assisted, all the while talking with the officer. On taking off his hat, to admit the noose over his head, he threw it one side, and falling off the scaffold, it struck a gentleman beneath, when the prisoner turned quickly, and bowing, said: 'Excuse me, sir!'

"A negro next came on the scaffold with a ladder, and proceeded to fasten the rope to the upper beam, the prisoner meanwhile regarding him with the greatest composure. The rope being fastened, the negro was in the act of coming down, when the prisoner, looking up at the rope, remarked: 'This will not break my neck! It is not more than a foot fall! Doctor, I wish you would come up and arrange this thing!' The rope was then rearranged to his satisfaction, and the cloth cap placed over his head.

"The condemned man then bowed his head, and engaged a few seconds in prayer, at the conclusion of which he raised himself, and standing perfectly erect, pronounced in a clear voice: 'All ready!'

"The drop fell, and the condemned man was launched into eternity!"

Kellogg is said by his captors to have died with the conviction that he had furnished more valuable information, in the character of a spy, to the Federal government than any other ten men in the service. But this has been denied by his friends at the North, who assert that he was innocent of the charge.

With baseless rumors of a soon-to-be-effected cartel of exchange; the drawing of lots for the selection of hostages, upon whom the Confederacy proposed to retaliate for the punishment inflicted upon three Confederates by the Federal authorities who had sentenced them to imprisonment in the Illinois State Prison; listening to yarns spun by real or pretended veterans; playing games of chance; holding spirited debates; reading letters from home; occasionally poring over the newspaper procured by stealth; or meditating plans of escape—the balance of the year 1863 wore on to its close, and still Willard Glazier was a prisoner of war, with no prospect whatever of a speedy release. Then came New-Year's Day, 1864, and some little attempt was made to get up a New-Year's dinner—though no extra rations had been issued. They did their best, however, like Mark Tapley, to be "jolly under unfavorable circumstances."

Nothing occurred out of the usual routine until the twenty-fourth of January, when, as the prisoners, including Glazier, were singing "The Star-Spangled Banner," "Rally Round the Flag, Boys," etc., the door leading into the street was suddenly flung open, and a squad of armed men filed in. Turner was at their head, and quickly crossing the room and placing himself at the door leading up-stairs, to prevent any of the prisoners from making their escape, began: "Now you d—dboisterous scoundrels, I'll teach you to begin your d—d howling in this building again. I want you to understand that you must not drive people crazy out in the streets with your villainous Yankee songs." He then turned to his men and ordered them to "Take their stations around the d—d rascals, and shoot the first man that dared to stir out of his tracks." Having completed which arrangement, he added to his helpless victims: "Now, d—n you, stay here until twelve o'clock to-night, and make a bit of noise or move from your place, if you dare." And he kept them there until the appointed hour, standing and in silence. "The fires went out early in the evening, and the cold became intense. Some managed to get blankets from their friends," in the apartment above, "but the guards soon put a stop to that. One man called down to a friend through a knot-hole in the floor, asking him if he wanted a blanket. The guard heard him, cocked his gun, and aimed at the hole; but a call from below gave the man warning and he fled." And all this for singing a song written by a Southerner, in praise of the flag under whose ægis Major Turner was nurtured and received his military education! It is quite possible that a song identified with the cause of their supposed enemy might have produced a commotion among the ignorant rabble in the street, and hence it is perhaps unfair to blame the commander of the prison for prohibiting the loud singing, which partook somewhat of the nature of defiance; but he could certainly have attained his object as effectually in a manner becoming an officer and a gentleman. Even the victims of the First French Revolution were permitted to express in song through the bars of the Temple sentiments ofutter scorn for their enemies, and when the Jacobins in their turn marched to the guillotine they did so, singing the "Marseillaise."

A great sensation was created among the prisoners on the twenty-fifth of the month on account of a visit made to "Libby" by the famous raider, General John Morgan, whom Glazier describes as a "large, fine-looking officer, wearing a full beard and a rebel uniform, trimmed with the usual amount of gold braid;" but something far more interesting than the visit of any man, however famous, began to absorb the attention of our imprisoned hero at this time. He had never ceased to rack his brain with schemes looking to his escape. A life of captivity was indescribably wearisome to him. He not only taxed his own ingenuity in the effort to discover some feasible plan, but eagerly entered into the schemes of others. The result, however, so far as he was individually concerned, was by no means in accordance with his hopes; but, as he has given the details in his "Capture, Prison-Pen, and Escape," we cannot do better (even at the risk of quoting from that work more freely than we had intended) than to let our readers have it in his own words, thus:

"Early in the winter, Colonel Thomas E. Rose, of the Seventy-seventh Pennsylvania Volunteers, conceived a plan of escape, and organized a secret company of twenty-seven, who were to dig their way to freedom.

"Colonel Rose was well calculated to superintend this work, for he had served in the Mexican War, was taken prisoner by the Mexicans, and after a short confinement, escaped by tunneling from the prison a sufficient distance to be clear of the guards. He hadserved his apprenticeship and was now prepared to manage and direct. After thorough organization of our company, withsecrecywell enjoined, we adopted the following plan of operations:

"In the basement of the building just below our cook-room, was a small unoccupied cellar, which had been closed since our arrival, and was never entered. From this room or cellar arose a large chimney, which passed through the cook-room, and so to the top of the building. Our first work was to make a hole in the chimney from the kitchen, which opening we could easily conceal by means of some slop-barrels. These barrels we managed ourselves to empty, so that all danger of detection from this point was carefully avoided. A short ladder which our considerate jailers had brought into the rooms for the purpose of raising their flag on the building, was used to make our descent into the dark room below. Inquiry was made for the ladder, but as no one seemed to know anything about it, it was inferred that it had been converted into fuel. At the foot of the ladder another opening was made through the chimney wall leading into the underground basement room. By removing a few stones from the wall of this place, we were in a situation to commence the work of tunneling. The only implements in our possession were an old trowel and the half of a canteen. The arduous labor was commenced with only the fragment of a canteen, but with this the progress was so slow that even the most patient were disheartened. Fortunately for us a mason came in to repair the prison walls, and going to dinner before he had finished his work, left his trowel, which in his absence most mysteriously disappeared. To himit may have been of little account, to us it was a godsend. With the aid of this implement we were enabled to make more rapid progress, were greatly encouraged, and worked night and day with ceaseless energy. Two of our number were kept in the tunnel almost constantly. One, by a vigorous use of the trowel and canteen, would advance slowly, placing the loosened earth in an old blanket, which the other would convey out of the tunnel into a corner of the room, from whence it started. Our course was due east, under the street, where constantly paced the sentinels, who at every hour of the night were wont to cry: 'Post No. 1; all's well!'—'Post No. 2; all's well!' etc. Little did they dream that Yankee ingenuity and perseverance were perforating the solid earth under their feet, and opening a path to freedom.

"As we progressed in our work we experienced great difficulty from the want of pure air to breathe, and to sustain our candles, which refused to burn. Consequently, one of our party was compelled to stand at the opening, fanning pure air into the tunnel with his hat. Our atmospheric difficulties were the more increased by the small size of the hole, which was a little less than two feet in diameter, quite irregular in consequence of large stones, and descended in a line below the horizontal. This severe labor was carried on without much interruption for more than three weeks, when, at last, the plan came near being a failure on account of a sad mistake in our measurement. Our intention was to reach the yard of an old shed, or warehouse, in which were then stored the boxes sent us by the Christian and Sanitary Commissions, and by our friends at the North.

"Thinking we had reached the desired point, an opening was made to the surface, when it was found we were still in the street, outside the fence, and within a few yards of the sentries. Not discovered by this mishap, the hole was quickly filled with a pair of old pants and some straw, and the work of excavation continued to the spot intended.

"The selection of this point was very fortunate, as the guards used to skulk about this building at night for the purpose of plundering the boxes, and on the night of the escape, as it happened, they saw every man that came out; but, supposing them to be friends, only whispered to each other, that 'the boys were going through theYankee boxesmighty fast.'

"These whisperings," adds Captain Glazier, "were distinctly heard by some of our men. The tunnel was about sixty-five feet in length, and was ready for use February ninth, 1864.

"The company of diggers had arranged that they should make their egress first, and inform the others just as they were going out. But each man had a particular friend whom he wished to notify, and, as we were seen packing our clothing, it soon became suspected among our fellow-prisoners that something unusual was in the wind. Curiosity, once on the alert, soon discovered the secret, and then all were jubilant with the hope of escape, and forthwith commenced packing their poor wardrobes. But egress was so slow that it soon became evident to the cool calculator that, at best, but a comparatively small proportion of our number would be fortunate enough to take their departure from 'Libby' before daylight would forbid any further efforts in that direction.

"In order to get down the chimney, as well as along the tunnel, it was necessary to do soin puris naturalibus, wrap our clothing in a bundle, and push it on before us. As soon as it was seen that only a few could possibly get out, many, and in fact most, became selfish, and thought only of attaining their own liberty. All rushed for the mouth of the tunnel, each man seemingly determined to be first out. By this movement, the organization formed by the pioneers or working party was broken up, and the workmen, who were to have had the first opportunity to escape, were not more favorably situated than those who had never borne a hand in the digging. At the entrance to the tunnel were hundreds eagerly awaiting their turn.

"Through the intense anxiety and excitement that arose, there was a rush and a crowd, each one being eager to improve the opportunity. Muscle was the trump card, and won. The weak had to step aside, or rather they were pushed aside without apology. No respect was paid to rank or name. A long-armed second lieutenant had no scruple in taking hold of a pair of shoulders that wore eagles, and pushing them out of the way. It wassauve qui peut, and no standing aside for betters—no deference to age, and gray hairs ceased to be honored. Mere physical force was the test of championship. Those poor weak ones who gravitated to the outskirts of such an eager crowding mass—just as the light kernels will find their way to the top of a shaken measure of wheat—doubtless thought, as they felt themselves crowded further and further from the door of egress:

"'Oh, it is excellentTo have a giant's strength, but 'tis tyrannousTo use it like a giant!'

"I made several attempts," Glazier continues, "to assert what I considered my rights, but as I had not, at that time, much muscle to back my claims, they were not recognized, and thus I spent the whole night in a bootless struggle for freedom.

"In digging the tunnel we had encountered a large root which we could not well remove, and the passage at this point was very narrow. Lieutenant Wallace F. Randolph, Fifth United States Artillery, a corpulent fellow, was caught fast by the root. There was a man before him, and another behind, which almost entirely excluded atmospheric circulation, and before they could pull him out of his unfortunate predicament, Randolph was almost dead. He was, however, successful at last. This blockade greatly retarded the line of march, and made the crowd within still more desperate.

"Some of the outsiders in the struggle, who despaired of accomplishing anything by strength, had recourse to a stratagem. There had been considerable noise during the struggle for position, and the guards were expected to make their appearance at any moment. The outsiders, taking advantage of this apprehension, went to the farther end of the cook-room, and, in the darkness, made a racket with pots and kettles, which sounded very much like the clashing of fire-arms; while some of their number in the crowd sang out: 'Guards! guards!' In an instant every man was gone from the tunnel, and a frantic rush took place for the single stairway by about five hundred men. Such a struggling and pressing I have never elsewhere seen, or participated in. We neither walked up, nor ran up, but were literally lifted from our feet, and propelledalong in a solid mass up the passage, and made our entrance through the door at the head of the stairs as though shot from a cannon—most of us not stopping until we struck the wall on the opposite side of the room. While this was going on, the scamps who had given the false alarm were quietly passing out of the tunnel! Therusewas soon discovered, however, and, in a few minutes, there was as great a jam at the entrance of the tunnel as ever. But, so eager and unthinking were we, that within half an hour, the same trick was played on us again by others and then followed another stampede up the stairs. It is a wonder this affair was not stopped by the guards, but they had no suspicion whatever of what was going on. This was probably owing to the fact that great noises in the cook-room were common throughout the night as well as day. It is however reported that one of the sentinels was heard to call out jocosely to a comrade on the next beat, 'Hello, Billy! there goes somebody's coffee-pot, sure.'

"This struggle continued until morning, when the opening in the chimney was covered, and we went to our several quarters. Here a muster was called to discover how many had made their escape, when it was found that one hundred and fifteen were missing. Arrangements were at once made to account for their absence, and certain men were designated who were to cross the room slyly during roll-call, and be counted twice.

"For some reason the authorities were late that morning, and did not make their appearance until about ten o'clock. On the roll being called the men, according to arrangement, attempted to cross the room,but the movement was discovered, and so the count showed one hundred and fifteen short. The clerk thought he had made a mistake, and counted again, but with the same result. The authorities also thought there must be some error in the count, and joked little Ross, the prison clerk, who was none of the brightest, because he could not count a thousand Yankees!

"We were now marched from one room to another, and counted one by one, but still there were one hundred and fifteen short of the complement. We, of course, pretended to be as much surprised as the authorities. They next sent for Major Turner, and he counted us two or three times, but with an equally unsatisfactory result. He demanded of us where they had gone, and how they got out; but not a man knew.

"The escape was at once made public, and the papers were filled with the news, and the most strenuous measures at once adopted to ensure the recapture of the runaways. The authorities were terribly exasperated, and as a first step, arrested the guards and threw them into Castle Thunder, concluding as a matter of course, that they had been bribed. This set the guards thinking, and one of them remembered he had seen an unusual number of men in the lot near the Yankee boxes. Latouche, the prison adjutant, hearing of this, just before nightfall discovered the locality of the opening. Next, they questioned the prisoners as towherein the building it began, but could obtain no satisfaction, and not until after a long search, did they discover the opening in the chimney."

So the "patient toil and vigil long" of poor Glazier went for nothing. The Confederate authorities seem to have treated the matter very good-humoredly, frankly expressed their surprise at the ingenuity and patience of the subterranean engineers, and manfully set about the task of recapturing the fugitives. Forty-eight were brought in during the next two days, but at the same time it leaked out among the prisoners that the Unionists under General Kilpatrick were within the outer line of fortifications, engaging the rebels, as it was conjectured, with the view of rescuing the prisoners. The consequence was, there was much excitement among the latter, for the boom of cannon sounded distinctly in their ears, and that sound was accepted as the music that heralded their approaching freedom.

All such hopes, however, were doomed to disappointment. The object of the expedition, which was a combined movement from different points by General Kilpatrick and Colonel Dahlgren, was defeated in consequence of the treachery of a negro guide, employed by the latter officer, and one of the effects of this man's treason was the death of that gallant young soldier. The only result that followed to the prisoners was that the rebels became more exasperated than ever, and unfortunately for their reputation, they seem, with regard to the treatment of the few prisoners that fell into their hands on this occasion, to have behaved rather like savage than civilized people. Not satisfied with the perpetration of acts of cruelty upon these particular prisoners, they (according to Captain Glazier's information) undermined the prison building, and stored beneath the foundation a sufficient quantity of powder to blow it into fragments. This proceeding he says they called, with more force than elegance,"preparing the Yankees for hell;" and Major Turner very grimly informed them that if any further attemptat escape were made, or efforts for their rescue, the prison would be blown to atoms! It is not surprising that at such a time, and under the circumstances, the prisoners looked upon this threat as meant in sober reality; but in all probability (or at least let us hope), it was used simply as a means of discouraging attempts upon the part of the incarcerated men, to regain their liberty by their own efforts or that of their friends.

The Hole In The Floor.THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR.

THE HOLE IN THE FLOOR.

The raiders captured in the expedition under Kilpatrick and Dahlgren had been thrust into a cell directly beneath the room in which Glazier was confined. Contrivances were made to open communication with them for the purpose, if possible, of alleviating their sufferings, as it was well known that food was issued to them in very niggardly quantities, and every indignity the rebels could devise inflicted upon them. After much effort, by the aid of a knife, a hole was cut in the floor, sufficiently large to pass a man's hand, and through this hole Glazier, for several weeks, was instrumental in furnishing the captives with a share of his own and his companions' rations, which were eagerly grasped and devoured by the starving men. No single act of our hero's life afforded him more real happiness than the service he was thus enabled to render the brave men who had lost their liberty in the noble effort to capture the prison and release its inmates.

Belle Boyd, the Confederate spy. — National characteristics. — Colonel Mosby. — Richmond to Danville. — Sleeping spoon-fashion. — Glazier's "corrective point" suffers. — Saltatory entrance to a railroad car. — Colonel Joselyn. — Sympathy of North Carolinians. — Ingenious efforts to escape. — Augusta. — Macon. — Turner again! — "Carelessness" with firearms. — Tunneling. — Religious revival. — Order from Confederate War Department. — Murder! — Fourth of July. — Macon to Savannah. — Camp Davidson. — More tunneling.

The celebrated Confederate spy, Belle Boyd, paid a visit to "Libby" in the latter part of March, and her presence created much comment among the prisoners. She was not that ideal of grace and gentleness which

"Untutored youth,Unlearned in the world's false subtleties,"

enthrones within the temple of his heart, but was, notwithstanding, a remarkable woman. With much of the enthusiasm that characterized "La Pucelle," she appears to have combined a considerable allowance of shrewdness, or common sense; a mixture of qualities, by the way, of more common occurrence than is generally supposed, among the northern and southern people of our continent. There is little difference between the "peartness" of the one, and the "smartness" of the other; or the "high tone" of the South, and thenonchalanceof the North. The commonnationalcharacteristic of the people of both sections, however, is the power of adapting themselves to every variety of circumstance. No matter what the importance, or the insignificance of the occasion, or event, upon which they perceive that their opportunity for the attainment of a desired object depends, they are ready at the right moment to seize and turn it to account; and while, to-day, the banks of the Ganges or the Tigris are made to yield up to them the fruits of their industry and produce, to-morrow, when a modification of the law of demand and supply prevails, we find the same men following the tide of fortune through humbler but equally useful channels. We are pre-eminently a practical people, and that this characteristic to some extent destroys the poetic aspect of American life, cannot be gainsaid. The homes of our infancy, the graves of our kindred, the hills upon whose summits we first felt the glory of the morning, the altar at which we first knelt in prayer, the rustic nook where we listened for the one step to which our boyish hearts beat sweetest time; have no power to trammel our migratory proclivities, or to check our local inconstancy. The sentiments with which such objects are indissolubly connected, are but tendrils clinging round the parent nest, and the wings of the new-fledged bird, bursting them asunder, it soars out into the world to contend and battle with its storms.

One of the least attractive illustrations of this spirit of unrest, is where it extends to our women, and Miss Belle Boyd's is in our estimation a case in point.

"Unknown to her the rigid rule,The dull restraint, the chiding frown,The weary torture of the school;The taming of wild nature down.Her only lore, the legends toldAround the soldiers' fire; at nightStars rose and set, and seasons rolled;Flowers bloomed, and snowflakes fell,Unquestioned, in her sight!"

Her career was full of adventure and intrepid daring, and she served the disloyal cause she espoused faithfully and to the bitter end; and then, like other wandering stars of the troubled sky, sank into oblivion. From the time of Miss Boyd's visit until the seventh of May, Willard Glazier continued to lead the same dull life at Libby Prison. The monotony of the hours was unbroken by any circumstance more exciting than a visit from the celebrated partisan chief, Mosby, who is described by Glazier as apreux chevalier, at that time about twenty-eight years of age, in figure slight, with straight fair hair and closely shaven face, except that "a faded German moustache overshadowed his upper lip." It does not appear that he was received as a welcome visitor, although he jocularly remarked to some of the prisoners who had been captured by his own troopers that he was "glad to see them there."

Time! what wonders dost thou work. But a few years have passed, and Mosby, who was erst so malignant a rebel, that even the poor, but loyal, prisoners, presented him the cold shoulder, is now a confidential friend of the late Commander in chief of the Union Army! Longstreet, the rebel General, again swears by the Star-Spangled Banner; and Beauregard, hero of Sumter and Bull Run, is now an advocate of perfect equality between the black and white races in his Southern State of Louisiana!

The visit of Colonel Mosby was the last memorableincident of our hero's sojourn in "Libby." Upon the seventh of May following, the prisoners were removed thence to Danville, Virginia. Several, in the course of this transit, effected their escape, but the great majority were safely conveyed to their new place of imprisonment. The change made no improvement in their unhappy condition. True, the rations furnished at Danville were of somewhat better quality, and more liberal in quantity, but the discipline was equally Draconian, and the penalty of its slightest infraction—death! The chief source of misery among the captives was want of room, the men being compelled to sleep "spoon-fashion," and in detachments, many being compelled to stand up awake while their comrades slept as best they could.

This condition of things, however, did not last long. Early upon the morning of the twelfth, the prisoners were once more marched out and started southward. After a journey of twenty-four hours in cattle cars, exposed most of the time to a drenching rain, they were disembarked and tramped another twelve miles to Greensboro. Here the mass of weary, wet, and hopeless patriots were about to be driven, pell-mell, like a herd of cattle, into a train of filthy cars, when young Glazier thought he espied a chance of evading his captors. He waited until it appeared to him that the guard was sufficiently occupied with other duties to overlook his whereabouts, and then slipped behind a log, where in an instant he lay upon the ground apparently fast asleep, trusting in the confusion attendant upon the departure of the train to escape observation. But fortune was against him. The only result was the infliction upon that portion of his body which some mothersconsider the "corrective point" of their children, of sundry unceremonious kicks, which, coming from such boots as the "C. S. A." at that time supplied to their soldiers, were felt to be more persuasive than agreeable. Of course it became necessary to awaken from his profound slumber slowly, which made thekicksstill more persuasive, and by the time he was erect, the cars were filled and the doors all closed. The guards therefore insisted upon his effecting an entrance through the small window, which he did with certain vigorous assistance from behind, and landed upon the head and shoulders of Lieutenant-Colonel Joselyn, of the Fifteenth Massachusetts Infantry, who passed him around in such a way that the other occupants of the car were moved to sundry objurgations at the expense of our young friend more forcible than polite, and partaking little of the nature of a hospitable reception! However, this is a world of compromises, and Glazier soon found his level among his fellow-captives.

Their route took them through a portion of North Carolina, where for the first time they met with unmistakable proofs of sympathy. At one city, on learning there were "Yankee prisoners" in town, the citizens came out in large numbers. Many attempted to converse with them, but were forced back at the point of the bayonet. The prisoners then struck up the "Star-Spangled Banner," and "Rally Round the Flag," and in each interlude could see white handkerchiefs waving in the breeze, demonstrations that so exasperated the Virginia guard that they sent a detail to drive "the d—d tar-heels" from the field.

The contiguity of friends of course presented a strong temptation to some to strike for liberty. Everydevice promising the least chance of escape was therefore resorted to. Among the most ingenious of these was one so graphically described by young Glazier that we make no apology for again using his language:

Prison Pen, Macon, Georgia.PRISON PEN, MACON, GEORGIA. Tunneling—The narrow path to freedom.

PRISON PEN, MACON, GEORGIA. Tunneling—The narrow path to freedom.

"The night being very dark," he writes, "and the soil where we were huddled together very sandy and light, many of the prisoners dug holes in the ground and there buried themselves, hoping thus to escape the observation of the guard when we should be marched from the field to the cars. Unfortunately, however, the scheme was exposed by one of the guard who accidentally stumbled into one of the holes, in the bottom of which he beheld a 'live Yankee.' Struck with amazement, he shouted out: 'Oh, my G—, Captain, here is a Yankee buried alive!' Great excitement was the natural consequence. A general search ensued, torch-lights were used, and the trees and ground thoroughly inspected. This investigation brought to light several holes of a similar character, each having deposited therein a Federal prisoner. The guards were very angry and went about shouting, 'Run them through! Pick up the d—d hounds!' but their captain, a good-natured sort of man, stopped all this. 'No,' said he, 'the d—d Yankees have a right to escape if they can. Let them alone. I'll risk their getting away from me!'"

Some of the burrowers did escape, however, and several others hid themselves in the foliage and were left behind.

After this nothing eventful occurred upon the way, and on the fifteenth of the same month, the whole party arrived at Augusta, Georgia, and found the home guards, to whose custody they were consigned, a bad lot. From that city they were soon after removed toMacon. Up to this period, amid all the mortifications of their condition, notwithstanding their tiresome rides and weary marches; despite the chagrin they naturally felt when well-laid plans of escape were frustrated by accidents beyond the power of men to foresee, they still had one source of consolation—there was at least one drop of balm in Gilead—for had they not gotten rid of—Turner!

Judge, then, of their mingled horror and despair when they reached the front gate of Camp Oglethorpe, their future prison, to find that monster before them, lounging gracefully against the gate entrance, and evidently delighted with the idea of being in a condition to shock his former victims with his presence.

The laugh, however, was not entirely his, for, upon mustering them, he discovered that forty-seven had escaped. Smothering his wrath for the moment, he welcomed the remainder to their prison-house, with the gratifying intelligence thatit had its dead-line, and all who approached it had better be ready to meet the contingencies of a future state of rewards and punishments!

After horrifying them with his presence, he shortly took himself off, and not long afterward, to their great relief, was ordered back to Richmond.

Before the week had expired, Glazier had an opportunity of estimating howcareless(?) some of his custodians were in handling their firearms, being an eye-witness of an attempt by a sentinel to shoot Lieutenant Barker, of the First Rhode Island Cavalry. The bullet, kinder than the boy who sped it on its errand (for this guard was not over fourteen years of age), passed over the old man's head. As the latter notedthe direction of the lad's aim, and heard the whistle of the bullet above him, he very temperately asked the somewhat unnecessary question, "What are you shooting at?" "I am shooting at you, you d—d old cuss." "What are you shooting at me for?" mildly inquired the lieutenant. "Because you had your hands on the dead-line," answered the boy. At this moment the sergeant of the guard came up, and taking the precocious ruffian by the collar, shook him with considerable energy, and demanded of him very fiercely, "What the devil are you shooting at that prisoner for, you little scoundrel?" The boy replied that the prisoner had his hands on the dead-line. Whereupon the sergeant shook him again, told him he was a liar—that the lieutenant was not within twenty feet of the dead-line, and consigned him to the custody of the corporal of the guard, who marched the young monster away.

Captain Glazier states that he was within ten feet of the lieutenant when the shot was fired, and that the latterwas not within thirty feet of the fatal line. The incident was not very exhilarating upon the threshold of his new abode, and the prisoners naturally felt greatly exasperated when they heard the particulars.

An order was promulgated next morning by the officer commanding, Captain W. K. Tabb, directing that "any of their number not in ranks at roll-call should be shot," which was not calculated to make them think more kindly of their jailers. The fact is, that the prisoners, in pursuance of a settled determination to lose no opportunity of escape that seemed at all feasible, had been again making experiments intunneling, and this atrocious order was intended as a measure of precaution against similar schemes in future.

Thus excluded from the relief afforded by such hopeful occupation, their poor captives had to find other employment for their leisure hours, and at this time a kind of religious revival took place among them, and if human prayer could have effected the destruction of the Confederacy, that organization would certainly have crumbled into dust forthwith. The enthusiasm was so great that at times the exercises bordered upon tumult, and greatly incensed their less fervent guards. At one time a huge Western man poured forth such a rhapsody in favor of Grant and Sherman, and garnished it with such pungent denunciations of Jefferson Davis, and other Confederate magnates, that one of the jailers commented thus: "D—d smart praying, but it won't do! It won't do!"

On the morning of the tenth of August, an order from the Confederate War Department was read before the entire garrison of Camp Oglethorpe, and caused much excitement. This order directed that a detachment of fifty prisoners, selected from officers of the highest rank, should be forwarded to Charleston, in order that they might be placed under the fire of the siege guns with which the beleaguering Union forces were attempting the reduction of that city. The order further directed that Generals Scammon, Wessels, Seymour, Schuyler and Heckman should be included in the number. The mandate was of course at once executed, and the departure of the devoted band was the signal for a wild burst of indignant reprobation of the Confederate authorities. It happened also, at this time, that one of the sentinels shot and mortally wounded a prisoner. The victim's name was Otto Grierson, and he had been a general favorite. The excuse assignedfor the murder was that he was endeavoring to escape, but his comrades declared that at the time the shot was fired, he was fully sixteen feet from the dead-line, and had made no attempt to escape. Young Glazier and others joined in a formal report of the facts to the officer in command, but the only result was that the murderer received promotion, and was granted a furlough!

If the statements of Captain Glazier regarding this and other contemporaneous outrages are to be relied upon (and he is very strongly corroborated), the officers commanding this military prison sadly abused their trust. Even the highest of those officials indulged in such petty exhibitions of puerile spite as to be altogether unworthy of his station, or even the name of an American.

On the arrival of the Fourth of July, the prisoners very naturally determined, as far as their limited resources would permit, to celebrate the occasion. Accordingly, in true American fashion, a meeting was called, at which speeches of a patriotic character were made, songs sung, and a miniature flag, containing the full number of stars and stripes, which one of their number had concealed about his person, was produced, and became an object of much interest. Instead of magnanimously ignoring all this harmless enthusiasm, the commander of the prison marched in a company of guards and violently dispersed the meeting!

On the twenty-seventh of July, six hundred prisoners were counted out, as they supposed to be added to the others under fire at Charleston, but really for removal to Camp Davidson, at Savannah, Georgia.

This change proved for the better. In the first place,in lieu of the Sahara of shadeless sand and clay of their former prison grounds, they found at "Davidson" a number of fine oaks, beneath the shade of which they were permitted to recline in peace. In addition to this, and a matter of infinitely greater importance, their guards were officered bygentlemen. Captain Glazier states that the authorities here issued tents, cooking utensils, and decent rations, and adds this tribute to their generally manly conduct toward the prisoners: "The troops here have seen service, and there is nothing like the battle-field and the suffering there experienced to teach soldiers humanity toward each other. Whenever attempts are made to escape, they give us to understand that they would do the same themselves, under like circumstances, but are still compelled to punish such infractions of discipline. They politely ask our pardon for inspecting our quarters, and in a manner as gentlemanly as possible, remove our blankets from the floor of our tents in their search for incipienttunnels. All this is very gratifying and tends to assuage the bitter hatred which former brutality has engendered. These Georgia boys will be long remembered, and may look for the utmost kindness and consideration from us if the chances of war ever reverse our situations."

This is a record for Georgia nobler far than any she ever gained upon the battle-field, albeit her sons were always in the van. All honor to them! Such victories are well worth the winning.

But pleasant as their Georgia quarters were by comparison with former experiences, the captives were afflicted with themalade du pays—the home-sickness that tugged at their hearts, and bade them again andagain risk death for the chance of freedom. Tunnel after tunnel was attempted, and one, constructed by a select band (sworn to secrecy), was upon the eve of completion, when a straggling cow blundered upon the frail covering of turf, and became so securely imbedded in the falling earth that she could not extricate herself. Her bellowing attracted the attention of the sentinel, the plot was discovered, and, of course, frustrated.

Despite such disappointments, however, when the time came, as it soon did, for the prisoners to leave Savannah, they did so with sentiments of gratitude for the comparatively humane treatment they had received at the hands of the Georgians, not unmingled, however, with apprehensions concerning their future, for it was openly rumored that they were destined to join their former fellow-prisoners now under fire of Gilmore's siege guns at Charleston.

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