LIEUTENANT WALTER S. JOHNSON.
Lieut. Walter S. Johnson, of Company I, my regiment, now of Lincoln, Neb., was captured with me, and was one of our number on the march from Mark's Mills, Arkansas, the scene of our undoing, to Tyler, Texas. He was afterwards one of my comrades in an attempt to escape. A couple of his experiences are well worthy of record here, and, while one of them occurred during our absence without leave from the stockade, it is related in this chapter because neither incident came to my knowledge until a recent date, and, both being illustrative of kind treatment received, it seems right to place them in a chapter which may be said to be Lieutenant Johnson's, especially as neither of them otherwise needs particular location in my narrative.
The balance of this chapter is to be understood, without quotation marks, as coming from my comrade:
After we had been on our weary march for a number of days, a man came among the prisoners for the purpose of buying up all greenbacks that were for sale. He did not need muchhelp to carry off his purchases, as we had been previously interviewed by others on the same subject, but without the offer to give an equivalent or even the courtesy to ask whether we had a superfluous quantity. This man, therefore, made a favorable impression, and we became curious to learn his object. He was a genteel, unassuming fellow, and spent two or three days with us, talking to individuals as the opportunity offered. At last I asked him why he was giving $5 of Confederate money for one of ours, when he told me frankly that he expected to go to Vicksburg—then within our lines—to buy medicine for the use of their army.
"Do you think it possible to do this?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," he responded; "I have done so several times already, and there is no trouble about it."
In a moment it flashed across my mind that here was a chance to get a letter through to my loved ones at home, and I said to him:
"Would you have the kindness to take a letter through for me and mail it to my wife when you get to Vicksburg?"
"Oh, certainly," he said; "I can do that just as well as not."
With bounding heart I tore a leaf out of my pocket diary and wrote a few lines to my wife, saying that I was all right, telling her to keep up her courage and that all would yet be well.
I gave the precious scrap of paper to thegentleman—without an envelope, as a matter of necessity—and my wife received it all rightfrom Vicksburg, where it had been enclosed in an envelope and mailed.
I remember this kind-hearted gentleman with much gratitude, and, as the receipt of the letter would indicate that he got through as expected, the fact has always been to me a source of satisfaction beyond that of personal benefit.
This experience, as well as the one to follow, is recorded all the more readily because the kindnesses received during our sojourn in Rebeldom were not expected, at least by me.
On our return to the stockade, after an escape elsewhere described, an incident occurred which gave me greater faith in human nature than I had possessed up to that time.
We were pretty well used up by our constant traveling, were having little to eat, and I was not feeling very well; perhaps looking even worse than I felt.
Thinking that a cup of milk would be at once a benefit and a positive luxury to me, one morning, just after daylight and before we had broken camp for the day's march under our guards, I made up my mind to visit a house near our resting place and ask for the drink to which my palate had been a stranger for about two years. I was scarcely a presentable object, being barefooted, my pants frayed out up to my knees and hanging in shreds below, mycoat-tails cut off at the waist, my feet wrapped in the detached fragments of my coat, and I wore a white wool hat, given me by the "Johnnies," as the best they had, that drooped so much as to necessitate doubling it up like a "turnover" pie. In this plight I mustered up the courage to present myself at the house, after having secured permission from the guards. Knocking at the door, with some misgivings, I was answered by a sad-looking, yet sweet-faced, middle-aged lady, whose appearance so confused me that I could only stammer my request.
She, with a calm, gentle demeanor, so mother-like that the tears almost started from my eyes, invited me to a seat in a neat and tidy, yet comparatively bare room. This courtesy I acknowledged and declined as respectfully as I knew how, thinking I would only be there a moment. She retired at once to an adjoining room.
The minutes kept slipping away, until I feared that our kind guards would have their patience tried and their suspicions aroused to an extent which would invite an investigation of my whereabouts, especially as we were to move before long. Just as I was beginning to think myself forsaken by the old lady, and was trying to forget the imaginary taste of that expected milk, she reappeared, when, to my surprise and almost consternation, she invited meto breakfastwith the family in the next room, where thetable was ready and bountifully loaded with a substantial meal.
Oh, that breakfast! The sight fairly took my breath for a moment, and I no longer regretted the delay as I feasted my eyes upon the clean and inviting table, with its plentiful supply of creamy biscuit, golden yellow butter, ham and eggs, baked potatoes and steaming coffee; but, as I gazed, even though hungry, worn out and reduced in flesh, a full sense of the kindness exhibited almost caused me to break down utterly and my appetite failed me for the moment. However, my kind hostess, in her gentle, unassuming manner, quietly motioned me to a seat and bade me make myself at home. With the family of four persons I sat at the table throughout the meal. Very few words were spoken. My eyes kept filling with tears and my heart was too full to permit my saying more than "Thank you, and may heaven bless you."
Even at this late day the remembrance of the unpretentious kindness of that dear old lady brings the tears to my eyes.
Such acts in this world of selfishness and coldness are the shade and water in the desert of life, and the longer I live the more I am convinced that nothing short of love for Him in the heart will produce such works.
In about six days we reached our place of abode, which was about four miles distant from the town of Tyler, in a northeast direction, and on the side of the main road to Marshall. The stockade was called Camp Ford, and was situated in the midst of a section thickly covered with a growth of pine timber, the enclosure consisting of about six or seven acres in a comparatively open space, where the trees had been cut off. The trunks of from one foot to eighteen inches in diameter had been split in two, and cut so that they were about nine feet long. These had been sunk in the ground about three feet and one-half to make the fence around the prison, and the tops of these slabs were about the height of an ordinary man's eyes from the ground.
The enclosure had been recently enlarged, and there were no buildings in it except in the old portion, and these now stood in the northwest corner, where there was a beautiful spring, which gave an abundance of clear and good water.
The stockade had two gates, the main entrance being on the north side and the other through the eastern fence or wall. The guardhouse was opposite the main gate, the headquarters of the rebels in a house over 100 yards down the road toward Tyler, and the hospital about 300 yards beyond.
We stood for over an hour, in all our glory, before the stockade, while the rebels looked us over and checked us off; then we were marched by details into our attractive future home.
My company was directed to the southwest corner of the enclosure, and assigned to quarters consisting of tree stumps, tangled oaks and scrubby pine brush.
Who can adequately describe the feelings which possess a man at such a time!
The remembrance of the patriotic inspiration, and hopes of glory, which actuated the enlistment; the recollection of how the desire for the comforts of life and the pleasures of home associations was suppressed in order that the country's need might be served; feelings of thankfulness that death in battle had not been the result; and then a self-questioning as to whether death would not be preferable to a long, dreary imprisonment; all combine to make one realize the extent of such a misfortune: but a man becomes more miserable when nursing his miseries, and the active employment of mind and body in attempts to remedy present evils is the best meansof avoiding depressing influences; so most of us turned our attention to making the best of our situation.
The next morning we held a council, and at once set about laying out a town within the enclosure. Before night the place, if one could have lost sight of the enclosing fence, looked like a very young prairie town. We had regular streets laid out, including a boulevard, and the discussions as to names were as serious as if our town had been a future city. In the southeast corner of the stockade we reserved ground for a public square, where hundreds of men could be seen promenading each pleasant evening. On the south side of this square the sinks were located.
There was an unfinished cabin quite near us, which was partly occupied by old pioneers, and we bought a half interest in the structure. It had two rooms, one low side, and a shed roof. By patching up, one side of this desirable flat was made habitable, and several of us moved in and took possession. We got poles and some oak staves, which sufficed to make rough bunks. Our party consisted of seven officers of the 36th Iowa, and Lieut. John H. Hager, of the 120th New York, who was my berthmate. By the way, I think Lieutenant Hager was the most contented prisoner of the entire lot. He could sleep night and day. Notwithstanding the flies would swarm on him so thick that you could scarcelyrecognize him, still he would sleep, undisturbed except by sweet dreams.
The ground was staked out for the different companies and allotted to them, all being made as comfortable as possible.
Our party built a porch to our flat, the occupants of the other side joining with us. We got out, under guard, for the purpose of getting the material, and we soon had a protection from the sun before our residences.
I had had malaria for some time before being captured, and a chill every other day for about six months previous to the time of our unwilling visit to the Confederacy, but no chill had I felt since the day of our disaster. Account for it as you will, the facts remain. I was still very weak, however, and our long march had not helped my recovery. I remember that in building the porch to our abode I was scarcely able to carry my share of the brush. While the march had helped to weaken me, the excitement of it had sustained me, but I went to pieces when it was over.
The commander of the stockade at that time was a Colonel Allen, an ex-United States regular, and he was disposed to be as kind as possible to his prisoners. The first protection for the men was such as could be had quickly by throwing up bowers of brush and tree limbs, but Colonel Allen allowed us to go out under guard and cut timber for cabins, and in about sixweeks we had completed cabins for all, thus being fairly well housed.
It is needless to say that all the prisoners had the fever of escape, but the chances were very few. Major McCauley, who lived next door to me, succeeded in getting away in a manner which will be spoken of later on.
Our town was soon one of 4000 or 5000 population and built like a Western boom city, avenues and streets being carefully laid off and appropriately named. We had lots of fun in naming some of these streets, and the lots were bought and sold in regulation style. We had a solid business street and efficient police regulations.
Before he left, my friend, Major McCauley, together with Jack Armstrong, a captain in a Kansas colored regiment, and several others, including myself, used to sit under our front porch spinning yarns, devising plans of escape and cracking the backs of a species of bug with a hard shell, which used to be prevalent about our quarters in those days. We planned a good many escapes, but could not hit upon the right method of getting away.
Colonel Allen and his wife were very nice people, and did what they could for us, but it was his business to keep us there, and, while many escaped from the stockade, very few got away.
In policing our enclosure they used a dump cart, which would drive in, be filled with leavesand other litter lying around and then be taken to a ravine outside and dumped.
We conceived the idea of using the cart as a means of escape, and forthwith set about carrying out the scheme. There were some prisoners among us from a Zouave regiment, and one of them was an innocent-looking boy. We enlisted his services, and he soon had the confidence of the cart-driver and was allowed to drive the cart around within the enclosure while it was being loaded. Selecting a favorable opportunity, Major McCauley and Captain Armstrong were laid in the cart and covered with leaves. The major's legs were too long, and, in drawing them within the limits of space allowed, his knees reared themselves so high that, when we had covered them as well as we could, there was very little covering on top. The captain was inclined to be corpulent and was full-blooded, so that, when the leaves covered him, he breathed heavily, and a close observer could notice a regular upheaving of the mass of leaves. We hoped for the best, however, and watched the progress of events with keen interest.
The cart finally started for the exit, and several of us made our way to a good point of observation.
By the time the vehicle had reached the gate the jolting over the rough ground, and the captain's breathing, had settled the leaves until, like the ostrich, the occupants felt secure withtheir heads covered, but were exposing telltale signs of their presence. McCauley's knees appeared above the leaves like mountain peaks above the timber, while the captain's stomach just showed, like the back of a porpoise above the water as he plunges.
An officer at the gate surveyed the cart, and we expected to see our friends hauled out, but he only smiled grimly and said not a word, while the cart proceeded on its way to the ravine.
We looked at each other in astonishment, and we could see the captain's stomach give an extra heave, evidently with a sigh of relief.
Our astonishment was soon changed to amusement as the officer spurred his horse toward the cart, and then stood quietly by, with a smile on his face, as the driver backed up to the ravine and prepared to dump the cart. A creak, a rush, a cloud of leaves and dust, a glimpse of two tumbling figures, and we saw our friends sitting in the bottom of the ravine, looking up wonderingly at the smiling officer on the bank, who said to them:
"Well, boys, where are you going?"
"To Camp Ford," replied Armstrong; "will you be kind enough to show us the way?"
"Certainly; will you ride or walk?" said the officer, pointing to the waiting cart and the grinning driver.
"Thank you, but we'll walk if it is not too far," was the answer, and the two men limped back tothe stockade, good-naturedly smiling at the laughter and jokes which greeted them from such of the inmates as had witnessed the escapade.
For some little time past I had been feeling miserable, my limbs swelling as if with dropsy and my appetite being very poor. I had begun to fear that I was likely to die, when Hiram Pratt, one of the members of my company, proposed a course of treatment which he claimed to have seen used with success in similar cases. After deciding to try his remedy, I was helped to the spring, disrobed and had the cold spring water poured slowly on my back for a few minutes. Almost instantly I felt some relief, and, with a daily repetition of the treatment, I soon became myself again. The cure was so complete that for fourteen months I was entirely free from all signs of the trouble.
Among the many schemes devised for escape from our prison were innumerable tunnel devices, and many of these were planned and worked upon, but nearly all the various workings were discovered in one way or another, and but one was a success, although many men escaped at different times in other ways.
The stockade was full of rumors about probable parole, and these stories, evidently prompted and encouraged by our captors to prevent attempts to escape, kept many of us fromrisking recapture, and possible death, by uncertain attempts to regain our freedom.
The Fourth of July was soon near at hand, and we asked permission to celebrate the day within the stockade. The consent being given, a number of us went out under guard and cut poles and brush, with which we built a large bower in our public square, as well as a grand stand. When finished we had shelter for over 500, and an enthusiastic crowd gathered about the stand on the Fourth. Colonel Leek had prepared an oration, and Colonel Dugan had written an original poem for the occasion. We applauded both oration and poem; when several speeches were made by those among us who were gifted and inclined that way. Long before we had finished one of the men on the outside of the crowd got so excited that he took off his red shirt and raised it on a pole, amid the cheers, hoots and yells of those about him. Our captors promptly marched a squad of soldiers into the stockade and broke up our gathering, giving as a reason that we had flown the American flag. This was not so. We had several flags among us, but were very careful to keep them out of sight.
While we had several flags, we knew that any display on our part of the stars and stripes would cause appropriation, and we possessed our souls with the knowledge that Old Glory was in no danger while kept in hiding.
It was the custom of our captors to bring in guards and count us daily. Our town was divided into wards, and the men of each ward fell in at a certain place to be counted, several guards being assigned to each ward to do the counting, which was done by roll-call. We worked this roll-call in various ways to facilitate exchanges, having some man impersonate another who was dead and whose chances of exchange had been good, and covering up escapes by answering to names of those not present. I personally know of one case where a resemblance caused a living man to become dead and buried on the records, while he was carried on the rolls and subsequently exchanged under the name of the man who had actually died. Several men escaped whose names were answered in person afterward by others, who took their place in line and then slipped back to their own places to respond to their own names. In this way a number of men were exchanged under the names of those who had escaped and whose absence had been covered up. This was possible, owing to the roll-call and the few guards whohandled large numbers of men, but it was afterwards stopped by a numerical count when a few cases of doubt had occurred.
When the rebels started the new system of counting we used to bother them all we could by causing disappearances. One of the first attempts we made at this was to secrete about 150 men in the lofts and corners of the various buildings which then existed, as well as above the lower weight poles on the roofs of our cabins; the usual custom of hanging blankets to air on the eaves of our quarters enabling us to cover the men who were hidden there.
There was a great excitement and furore when the count showed the shortage and apparent escape. Dogs and searching parties were sent out in all directions without avail, and the next morning it was more excitement when the count was in excess of the required number. We did this constantly, in a small way, although our fun was spoiled after the first large discrepancy, but it served to increase chances of escape by making the rebels pay less attention to a small shortage. They would not attempt to hunt through the stockade for a few men, and after a few cases of finding the missing ones at the next or the following count they could not be sure of an escape until too late to follow with any chance of success.
Exchanges at this time were considerably delayed by the trouble which resulted from theparoles given to the large number of prisoners at Vicksburg. These men were tired of fighting, had no desire to serve the Confederacy again, and not only refrained from again carrying arms against the United States, until regularly exchanged, but sought to avoid doing it at all by keeping out of the way of exchange.
In one of the boat fights on the Red river the rebels captured an army paymaster in citizen's clothes. He was sent to our stockade, was exchanged in due time and sent home, and I learned years after that he had had $150,000 of government money concealed on his person, which he had succeeded in saving and taking back with him.
In this day, when men seem to think it right to get all you can and keep what you get, you will find few like this paymaster.
There were all sorts of trades constantly going on between the prisoners and with outsiders. One of the most amusing scenes I ever witnessed occurred in the case of a farmer who bought a load of assorted truck to sell to the men in the stockade. He had a dilapidated old wagon and a sorry-looking specimen of a mule team, which he drove up to the enclosure and left in charge of his negro boy while he went to headquarters for a guard to escort him inside of our camp and protect him while selling his goods.
The rebels were too busy to give the desired attention to him as soon as he wanted it, andwhile he was waiting for the detail the guards at the stockade began helping themselves to the contents of his wagon, the negro driver, who was only about fourteen years old, having no ability to prevent the plundering. This made the owner furious, as he witnessed it from a distance, and he came over to the wagon, asking Adjutant McCann for permission to go in without a guard, saying that the prisoners would not steal as much as would the men who should protect him, and expressing his willingness to take his chances alone.
All this conversation was within the hearing of both prisoners and guards, and the adjutant, with a wink at the crowd, ordered the gate guard to permit the passage of the outfit.
A broad grin of satisfaction spread over the faces of all as the large gate swung open, and the crowd of about 500 prisoners that usually stood about the main entrance opened ranks to permit the passage of the wagon, the negro boy driving and his master, with an unmistakable air of triumph, standing erect beside him.
When inside of the enclosure the wagon was driven up our Broadway, the crowd closing in behind and following, and when the merchant and his rig made a stand on Market street he had a crowd of from 1000 to 1500 customers around him, and trade opened up quite briskly, he exchanging his stuff for cash and such available trinkets as were possessed by the boys,putting his own price upon both the goods sold and the articles taken in trade. He was selling out at a rate which caused the money fairly to pour into his hands, and all went smoothly until he made the mistake of raising prices and getting too independent, when his troubles began.
When his talk and manners had given offense to many of the prisoners, and his unjustifiable prices had caused the disapprobation of all, some of the men began slyly to help themselves to small articles. Discovering this, he struck at one of them with his cane, which was snatched from him, whereupon he drew his revolver and swore he would shoot the first man who took anything more.
His lone pistol could not intimidate so large a crowd, and there was something so absurd about the idea that the men laughed in derision, daring him to shoot and promising faithfully to kill him and put him out of his misery if he did.
The poor little negro boy who held the reins was so badly scared that he almost turned white.
After a few exchanges of courtesy, during which the man was so impolitic as to arouse the anger of the crowd at his littleness and bravado, the linch-pins were quietly removed from the axles of his wagon, somebody started his mules, and, in a minute, he and part of his load had been dumped on the ground, amid the yells and shouts of the now excited men, and in less time than it takes to tell it his entire wagon and loadhad disappeared piecemeal, carried off to various parts of the enclosure and secreted, and he was left standing in the midst of a crowd that had only laughter and sarcasms for his tirade of abuse.
Finally, he became too personal, and then he was violently taken in hand. They took away his revolver, smashed his ancient plug hat, plundered his pockets of his receipts and generally maltreated him.
During the fracas some silver coins were scattered about in the crowd, and a general scramble took place for their possession, during which several heads were ornamented by other than the usual bumps.
When the crowd at last let the merchant depart he was the most bedraggled specimen of humanity that I ever saw.
The guard came in and dispersed the crowd, but there was not enough of his wagon to be found to be of any use, and he slowly and painfully walked out of the enclosure, leading one of his mules, while his boy followed close behind with the other, the master shaking his fist at us and indulging in a forcible, if not elegant, flow of language.
He got more from the boys than his whole outfit was worth before he began to overcharge and put on airs, so that no one felt sorry for him, while all enjoyed the scene of his downfall and spoliation.
After the trader had gotten outside of the stockade the rebel guards took up the matter, joking him severely and laughing at his troubles, consoling him with:
"You can go in without a guard whenever you please. The pris'ners 'lnot steal any more from you than we will!"
Colonel Allen, who, up to this time, had been in charge of our stockade and given us all the attention and comfort possible, was now removed, and a Colonel Borders sent to take care of us. We much regretted the removal of Colonel Allen.
Among the prisoners were a number of steamboat men, who lived by themselves and were called the steamboat squad. They were an unruly crowd and caused much annoyance. The 5th Kansas boys had a row with some of them, and one day the steamboat squad got together and came up to clean out the 5th. At once there was great excitement and we all feared a riot. The leader of the steamboat men was a big Irishman, and his loud-mouthed threats, together with the rough appearance of his crowd, seemed to indicate a hard time for the boys, while no one cared to interfere personally. The 5th was drawn up in line, armed with clubs, to receive the attack, but an officer proposed to settle the dispute by a single stick fight with the steamboat leader, which was hailed with delight by all hands. I do not propose to describe thisbattle, but everyone who witnessed it was surprised to see the big Irishman receive, in short order, an unmerciful drubbing, which settled what would probably have been a general fight if the two factions had come together; and thus we had some keen excitement to vary the monotony, while disastrous consequences were fortunately avoided by the presence of mind of one man, or, rather, by his skill with the single stick.
A noteworthy and impressive feature of our stockade life should not be overlooked. I refer to the religious services held regularly by many of the prisoners. On every Sunday morning a crowd would gather in one corner of the stockade, and men representing numerous religious creeds would meet in unison to worship Him.
Much religious enthusiasm was frequently manifested at these meetings. Many professed conversion, and a number of backsliders were reclaimed. The experiences related by those who had been raised amid Christian influences were particularly interesting. With tears in their eyes men would relate how they had received the parting blessings of pastor, wife, parents and other loved ones, only to come to the army and be surrounded by irreverent comrades. They would tell how hard it had seemed, to be deprived of the help and consolation of regular and customary religious services in the midst of such surroundings, and how much harder the trial had been when the change to prison life had taken place and the separation from home had become total; the recital, an earnest assurancethat religious faith was a great consolation in time of adversity, and a stirring appeal to others to have faith that He did all things well, being sufficient to awaken dormant feelings in some, to inspire new thoughts and resolutions in many and to cause all to feel more resigned. No doubt as to the support and consolation afforded by religious faith could have existed in the mind of anyone observing the earnestness and fervor of the leaders in these gatherings.
The religious exercises were not sufficient, however, to suppress the natural inclinations of most of the prisoners to gamble on the slightest provocation; in fact, the confinement and the necessity for doing something to kill time were the means of increasing the ordinary tendencies in this direction.
In ordinary army life it was a common thing, during most any halt, to see "keno" and "chuck-luck" games going on. The halt would scarcely be called before "chuck-luck" boards would begin to appear from knapsacks here and there and rubber ponchos be spread for "keno" games. Five minutes later one could scarcely look in any direction without seeing games of chance in full blast. The prison certainly witnessed more of this in proportion, as the dealers were not reformed in the least, and the gullible ones were as numerous as ever, while the victims of the mania for trying to gain much for little, with the chances all in favor of losing more, wereincreased by the causes mentioned and from the rebel guards who were allowed to remain within the stockade. After roll-call each morning a dozen or more games would be called in as many different parts of the prison, and an interested crowd would soon be gathered around each game in the open air to watch the betting, which would, at times, cause quite an excitement.
Lieutenant and Adjutant McCann, of the prison guards, always took a lively hand in these games, and he could be seen almost every morning squatting down or sitting flat on the ground, where he could partake of the excitement of "bucking a sure-thing game." One morning, while he was intently engaged in this occupation, some waggish prisoners quietly appropriated his revolvers without his being aware of the transaction; to slip them from the belt being an easy matter when he was in such a posture and so much interested in trying to "break the bank."
When McCann "went broke" himself he left the stockade, still without noticing his loss, but it was not long before he became aware of the theft and indulged in some righteous indignation. He gathered a detail of guards and returned to the stockade, demanding the return of his pistols. Of course, no one had seen them, and not a soul in the enclosure knew anything of them.
The suggestions and remarks, together withthe adjutant's ire on this occasion, made the scene an amusing one, but it soon took a serious turn. One of the prisoners would suggest that the officer had lost his "guns" in the woods before entering the stockade; another would remark that his own men were no better than others, and that some of them had probably "cramped" the weapons; the next would suggest that he might find the pistols in his own quarters if he looked more carefully; and the men kept this up until the officer became nearly frantic with anger. He made numerous threats, but they were insufficient to cause the surrender of the lost revolvers, and no suspicion of any particular parties could well exist under the circumstances, as any one of the 6000 prisoners might have been the malefactor.
The fact that two good revolvers were in the hands of the prisoners was not one calculated to cause indifference on the part of the rebels, as untold trouble might result; so, after a council of war at headquarters, it was decided that cutting off the rations of the entire crowd within the stockade until the missing articles were found would probably inspire the prisoners with better sight, and we were informed that unless the pistols were surrendered within twenty-four hours we should have no more to eat after that time until we discovered and returned the adjutant's armory.
This action was regarded as a "bluff" by theprisoners, and, after a general discussion, it was decided that our sight could not be improved by such methods; but when we had fasted for twenty-four hours, and the beef and meal wagons had failed to put in an appearance at the regular time, we concluded that the rebels meant business, and it was not long until someone discovered the lost revolvers, when our guards were advised as to where the weapons could be found.
The surrender of the adjutant's arsenal put an end to an amusing and exciting episode, but it also ended the "keno" and "chuck-luck" games, so far as the guards were concerned, for their commander forbade any of them remaining within the stockade after roll-call. The adjutant never recovered his lost temper—that is, while we knew him, and was a cross officer after this occurrence. Whenever he would enter the stockade, subsequent to his disarmament, someone would shout "keno," and the cry would be taken up by a thousand voices. This did not help him to forget the revolver incident, and, naturally, did not improve his temper.
"Keno" was also a watchword to notify anyone engaged in tunnel-digging or other contraband work that it was hazardous to proceed at the time, and by the time any officers or guards entering the stockade could reach any suspected point all unlawful actions would be stopped and any traces covered.
We had a tunnel started in a cabin, the mouth of the hole being sunk in the fireplace. Whenever the watchword, "keno," would sound the digger would hurry out, a false bottom would be set in the fireplace and hurriedly covered with ashes and burning wood, and all evidences of the work effectually hidden from sight.
This tunnel-digging was slow work, as a case-knife was the most effective tool which we possessed, and all the labor of shaping the hole had to be done with this inappropriate implement. Our method of removing the dirt could not be called primitive, inasmuch as the means employed were of neither ancient make nor style, but the device certainly was not of the time-saving kind. A cigar-box, with a string attached, was the vehicle for conveying the dirt from the interior of the works to the surface of the ground, and every ounce of dirt that was loosened by our improvised excavator had to be removed by this apology for a tram car. When the loaded car came to the mouth of the tunnel it was carefully conveyed to some old hole in the neighborhood and there dumped, light dirt sweepings from the ground being scattered over the fresh soil from the tunnel. The lack of speed in the work was offset by the corresponding amount of care that was taken in doing it.
There was every reason in the world for believing that our tunnel would become a success, and it would have done so had it not been forthe action of some traitorous prisoner, whose identity never was discovered. This man, whoever he was, had good reason to thank his lucky stars that we were not able to locate him.
Some miserable coward informed the rebels of our work, and, after repeated surveys, they managed to swamp the enterprise, catching the digger, who then happened to be Abel Crow, in the tunnel. Crow was taken outside and made to mark time for hours in the effort to compel his betrayal of the others interested with him in the work. When the guards thought he was about tired out they would question him as to who were his helpers, but he was true blue. He stuttered a good deal under ordinary circumstances, and, when excited, could scarcely be understood by anyone not used to his manner of speech. His uniform reply to the questions asked was:
"M-m-m-my n-n-n-na-na-n-na-name is A-a-a-ab-a-ab-el-Abel Cro-cro-cro-Crow, and I d-d-do-do-don't kn-know anyb-b-bod-y else."
The rebels tried to get this man to say more, and they kept at him until forced to give up the attempt as a bad job, when they complimented him upon his grit and sent him inside without further punishment.
The tunnel had reached fully thirty feet beyond the fence and picket line when the work was stopped, and Abel told one of the guards who were assisting him to mark time during theattempt to learn the names of his co-workers that he could stop work in the tunnel and plainly hear the guard's "One o'clock and all's well," which he knew to be a d——d lie, further informing his listeners that if they had not been in such a d——d big hurry the job would have been finished in about two more days and nights and many of the prisoners would have handed in their resignations.
The statements of Crow to the guard were made in his own stammering way, which must be imagined by the reader, with the assistance of the illustration given of Abel's ability for speech-making, and his combination of frankness and reticence made him no enemies.
Of the disappointment consequent upon the failure of this tunnel to reach the outer world at the proper time and place little need be said. It was only one of many failures, and while the progress made had encouraged a very strong hope, if not expectation, of success, the result was not so exceptional as to cause despair. All who had had confidence in the success of the scheme were naturally a little crestfallen, but we still continued to nourish hopes of a different result in some other case.
ADJUTANT S. K. MAHON.
About the first of August our remaining officers decided that parole or exchange was very unlikely, and we concluded to attempt an escape. Captains Miller and Lambert, with Major Hamilton, had already gone. They had slipped out of the stockade and had finally succeeded in getting home, but the hardships of the journey caused the death of two and nearly killed Hamilton. The result, of course, we did not know at the time, so Captains J. B. Gedney and Thomas M. Fee, Lieutenants Charles Burnbaum and Walter S. Johnson, Adjutant S. K. Mahon and myself made our plans to follow their example.
After considerable diplomatic work we finally closed a deal with one of our guards to secure us an opportunity to get out, for $150 in Confederate money, and he picked out a couple of his companions to help him. We watched and studied the methods of guard-mounting, and selected what seemed to be the most favorable point for our egress. We then informed our friend the guard of the time and place decided upon and instructed him how to have himself and friends fall in at guard-mount, so that theywould get the posts which covered our chosen ground.
When the appointed time came we were all nervous and somewhat excited, for we could not tell whether our guards would prove true to us or not, but we were determined, and we made our preparations with the utmost secrecy. We had secured some provisions and an axe, and when we finally started Captain Gedney led the way as pioneer, carrying the axe. I came next, with a pail containing our provisions, on top of which was a large boiled ox heart, and the others followed. As we approached the stockade our hearts beat quickly, and we were in a state of dreadful suspense until we saw that the nearest guard was aware of our presence and found that he was not disposed to see us. We had picked out a spot where the soil was loose, and, when we found that our guard was sincere, it was the work of a very short time to work and separate two slabs of the stockade so that we could squeeze through.
The night was dark and rainy, and fitful flashes of lightning but partly illuminated the scene, yet caused us to crouch close to the ground to avoid discovery. I shall never forget the interval of dread, hope and nervous excitement consequent upon our delay at the fence while forcing an outlet, although it could not have been more than a very few minutes. Between the rumblings of thunder we could hearthe low sough and moan of the wind in the trees outside of the stockade, like the suppressed wail of human beings in pain; then would come a flare of flickering lightning through the clouds, like the striking of a match that would not burn, at which we would flatten out against the fence or on the ground, with our hearts in our mouths; then, with the darkness, would come the low roar of distant thunder, like the anathemas of a disappointed match-striker, and we would desperately renew our efforts for fear the successful match would be struck before we got away, our fears being heightened by the evident approach of the worst of the storm. My similes may not be poetic or grand, but it is a fact that it seemed to us as if each flash of lightning was an attempt to find us and each roll of thunder the growls of our captors at the failure.
At last we got through the fence, and at once struck a pace for the woods, which would have carried us to Iowa in short order if we could have kept it up.
We had scarcely started before there came what seemed to me to be the greatest flash of lightning that I had ever seen. For an instant you could have seen to read in the open spot across which we were making all the speed of which we were capable, and then came a yell from one of the guards, the roar of a musket and a rattle of thunder that fairly caused us tobecome frantic in our efforts to put a proper distance between ourselves and that stockade. In the darkness which followed the glare I plunged head over heels into a small ravine, hugging my bucket of food desperately, but when I arose and hastened on my ox heart had disappeared. We had no time to bewail the loss, however, for our danger of recapture was more serious, and we fairly flew along.
Just what efforts were made to overtake us I do not know, but we finally reached a place where we could hide and take a breathing spell, and no sounds of pursuit disturbed us.
After a time the storm passed over and the moon began to peep through the clouds now and then, when we started again on our journey. The country was what can be best described as an open-timber country, that is, timbered thinly without much underbrush. We walked all night, selecting our course as best as we could, having occasional periods of partial moonlight, then a cloudy spell, and again a thunderstorm. When daylight at last appeared we sought a ravine and a dense thicket and stowed ourselves away.
It cleared off with the rising sun, and we spent the day in hiding, drying our clothes in the sun as best we could. We had no idea where we were, and could only locate directions in a general way; so we talked over the situation and decided to travel by night, going as near north as possible, and to take turns as leader or guide, holdingeach leader responsible for keeping our course.
When night came it was decided that it was my lead, and I prepared to guide the party north in a country of which I knew nothing, my only support being the consciousness that I knew as much about our surroundings as the others.
We started, and proceeded in a very satisfactory manner until we struck what we took for a bayou. There was a path along the bank, so we turned and followed it for quite a distance, expecting it to lead us to a crossing, but finally concluded that we should wade the stream. I picked out a good place and started in. We walked until tired, sometimes up to our knees in water and again up to our waists, but there seemed to be no other side, and by the time we concluded that we had a swamp to deal with instead of a bayou we knew just about as well how to find the spot we had left as how to reach the other side. After a standing committee of the whole had discussed—and cussed—the situation, in water up to our waists, we decided that it was better to go on than to try retracing our steps, as we would be bound to reach the other side or some side if we only kept on long enough. So I picked out a northerly direction as well as I could and we floundered on.
The silence was not oppressive, as the croaking of innumerable frogs, the buzzing of severalmillion mosquitoes and the splash of the water did not permit such a thing to exist, while exclamations, some partially suppressed and some emphatic, frequently silenced the frogs and startled the mosquitoes, as one or another of the party stepped into a hole or stumbled over a root. At last we struck a place where the water was quite deep, the bottom soft and the bullrushes so thick that we could scarcely wade through them.
When we got where the bullrushes waved over our heads, while the mud was nearly to our knees and the water up to our armpits, the rest of the party stopped and mildly remonstrated, one of them suggesting that my ability as guide was not being displayed in finding the most convenient way to go north, even while I might be going the most direct way, and that there was room for an argument as to whether our most material progress was not toward a place located in another direction.
At this I suggested that as I was their Moses to lead them out of the wilderness I could scarcely be blamed for a visit to my birthplace while the opportunity offered.
Captain Gedney was so exhausted that we were compelled to grope around until we found a place where he could sit down. Before it was found he was so completely fagged out that we had to support him, and, when at last we foundwhere he could sit with his mouth and nose just above water, the situation had become serious.
Then we appointed a committee of one to explore the neighborhood and find, is possible, a place where we could sit down conveniently. Lieutenant Johnson, being the tallest, was selected for this delicate duty, and we rested (!) for a time while he departed on his quest. We had several reports from him in the next few minutes, but they had no bearing upon the object of his mission and are omitted, and then his voice grew fainter and fainter very rapidly. At last we heard him shout to come on, and we went toward his locality in as good order as possible. After some worse floundering than any we had yet had we began to find hard bottom and more shallow water, and in a short time we joined him on a bare space around the roots of a big tree, where we all sat down and awaited daylight, after voting thanks to Johnson for his timely help in the hour of need. We figured out that we must have walked at least ten miles through that swamp, and even today I can hear those frogs and the dismal splash of the water when I allow my mind to dwell upon that night's experience.
Despite our worn-out and exhausted condition, and the drowsy feeling which came to us as the result, we were unable to sleep soundly. The myriads of mosquitoes were not slow todiscover our half-stupid condition, and they took a mean advantage of our partial helplessness. I have never been able to decide how much of our exhaustion on the following morning was due to our exertions and how much to the loss of blood which resulted from the attacks of our musical enemies.
With the coming of light we discovered solid ground in the near distance, and we very quickly reached it. Most of our provisions and nearly all our matches had been ruined by the water, so we had a scant breakfast in our wet clothes.
About the time when we finished breakfast we discovered a dog skirmishing about among the brush, and an investigation developed the fact that a colored gentleman was passing by us not very far away. We withdrew to better cover, and I undertook to capture the dog and make friends with him, fearing that otherwise he might discover us to his master.
The capture of the animal was effected with the aid of my suspenders and a few honeyed words, and we quickly became quite friendly, his master loudly calling and whistling for him, while we caressed and fondled him to distract his attention and prevent his barking in reply. When we finally concluded that it was best to get rid of our new companion he was loath to leave us, so Lieutenant Johnson was detailed to lead him off in the swamp and kill him. Just as he was about to start on his mission adeer ran through the woods, quite close to us, and the dog became so excited that we released him, when he at once started on the trail of the deer, and we saw no more of him or his master.
When night came, our clothes had been partially dried by the heat of our bodies and what little sunlight was available, and we started again in high hopes, finding a good road after a short walk. Following this road for an hour or two, we saw a fire ahead of us, and at the same time heard some cattle being driven toward us from the rear. We at once filed out of the road, lying down to await their passing. Just as they got to us a man came riding down the road and headed them off into the woods, and the whole bunch passed right over our bodies, fortunately without stepping upon any of us, although Burnbaum had a very narrow escape; he could have touched the horse ridden by the man. After this incident we concluded to retire for the night, and sought a secluded place, where we made the best beds we could and had a sleep.
In the morning we held a consultation, and decided that we could now travel by daylight if we exercised reasonable caution. Our provisions were now all gone, and we were pretty hungry, so we kept a good lookout for a chance to replenish our larder as we proceeded on our way.