Sick in the smallpox ward--A new plan of escape--Over a powder
mine--The plan fails--Filling the roll, one hundred and nine
men "short"--Shot at through windows--"Bread! bread!"--Hopes of
exchange--May 1st--Boxes which had passed in the night--Brutes--More
boxes--Danville, May 8th--Two weeks later, Macon.
By this time my health had become so poor that I was taken to the
hospital, which was in the east room on the first floor of the prison.
I remained there one night, when it was reported by the surgeon in
charge that there were two cases of smallpox in the room and that if I
preferred I might return upstairs, which you may be sure I immediately
did. Then we were all vaccinated; it did not "take" on me, but there
was many a groan for a while from the effects of sore arms.
One night as I lay sick upon the floor I noticed that one of my nearest
bedfellows was missing. After a few days he returned early one morning,
spoke to his next neighbor in bed and asked him to lie over and give
him his warm place in the bed, as he had been on guard for the last
four hours and was nearly frozen. His friend, who was Lieutenant Wise,
complied with his wish. When he laid down his head nearly touched mine
and I heard the man who had given up his warm place (Wise) ask him
very secretly how near the end was, and heard the reply, "It is done
now; we would have opened it to-night but thought it was too near
morning."
Now I had a nut to crack; all thought of sleep was gone and I found
myself constantly repeating the question, "Has the time arrived when we
are to overpower the guard?"
In the morning I approached Lieutenant Wise for further information,
but he was as "mum as an oyster" regarding any intended movement toward
escape.
I told him what I had heard him say about the end and he assured me I
had been dreaming. But I was not to be so easily evaded, and reasoning
with myself that if it were a tunnel which had been prepared it must
start from the middle room, the one we were allowed to use from 9 A.M.
to 4 P.M. I took my station at the door and was the first to enter the
room as it swung open. I could plainly see tracks on the floor coming
from the east end and began an examination, but without result. It was
plain that I was not in the secret. The day passed--taps were sounded
and all retired. An instant later everybody was up, dressing and
packing. An Illinois captain came over to me and said:
"Lieutenant, you are not able to make the effort, lie down again."
I mused to myself thus: "What can be the result; if I lie here I may
be blown up, if I go and faint by the wayside I shall die, so I may as
well be in one place as another." Accordingly I obeyed orders, laid
down and in a few moments was entirely alone in that great, cold,
desolate and deserted room. My heart fluttered as I thought of the
three kegs of powder in the mine underneath me and I tried to keep my
pulse still by holding my breath, but it would flutter on in spite of
every effort, when, suddenly, even before I realized that any time had
passed, there was a rushing of feet and my comrades poured in, one
after another, pell mell, hastily unrolled their blankets and stretched
themselves on the floor, every man in his place. A moment after, the
rebel guard came pushing in with lanterns and scrutinized every man
closely. All were apparently sound asleep but me, and most of them
snoring loudly. The guard was completely deceived and retired, and
then I also fell asleep; but when daylight came I noticed that both
my neighbors were gone. I made no comment, though I knew I would have
to be counted for them at roll call. I did this by falling in on the
right, and being counted, slipped down to the rear of the line, when I
was again counted--first time for Wise, then later for his companion.
The count being completed, the adjutant announced that "over a hundred
men had answered roll call who were not on the floor."
We began to smell trouble.
The adjutant went downstairs and soon returned with "Dick" Turner and a
guard, who drove all of the prisoners out of the room, and then passed
them back one at a time, counting them as they filed through the door.
After completing the count they announced they were one hundred and
nine men short, and started their patrols out in every direction to
recapture the runaways. By noon they had begun to head them off, and in
less than three days recaptured fifty-six. The remaining fifty-three
were never heard of again as prisoners in Libby; the most of them
succeeded in reaching the Union lines.
This escape was hard on the rest of us, however, our liberties being
greatly curtailed and our dangers increased. Among other orders, the
guard was instructed to shoot every man who showed his head at a
window. The first man shot at was Lieutenant Burns, who happened to
expose his head too close to an opening in the water closet, where a
board had been torn off. Fortunately he only lost half of one ear.
Lieutenant Forsyth of Ohio was not so fortunate. He was sitting four
or five feet from the window, reading, when he was observed by a guard
patrolling on the opposite side of the street. He fired at Forsyth,
killing him instantly, and many other brave officers afterwards shared
the same fate as Lieutenant Forsyth, at the hands of those cowardly
assassins.
Such was life in this prison, kept by people who prided themselves on
their "chivalry." God save the mark!
The month of March dragged slowly along. The commissary boxes which had
been sent to us from the north were in sight, but we were never allowed
to touch their contents, our only ration still consisting of the one
chunk of corn bread daily.
April came, and every day the cry was "Bread! bread! bread!" not only
in the prison but also on the streets.
Bread riots were reported to us as having occurred even in the city.
Toward the last of April I was approached by an officer of high rank,
who asked if I was "anxious to be exchanged?" Of course I was! I
replied, my hopes going up.
He then told me they wanted to send a message north to headquarters at
Washington, and I might carry it if they could effect my exchange. The
message was that Longstreet's army from Knoxville, Tennessee, about
forty thousand strong, had just passed through Lynchburg, going north
to join Lee in Northern Virginia; and that Beauregard's army had passed
through Petersburg, going north on the same mission, with about thirty
thousand men. The message was to be enclosed in a brass button, and
they were in hopes they might get me through the lines, as I was in
poor health.
The application was made, but alas for the hopes of a prisoner in
the hands of rebel captors! I never heard anything further of the
proposition, and again settled down to wait some new disappointment.
The first of May came, that day of so many bright memories in my
northern home. The city of Richmond was all excitement; old men and
small boys could be seen going down Franklin Street with old muskets
and clean new white haversacks; and the rebs commenced to issue to us
our long-looked-for boxes. Once more hopes of a change for the better
took possession of us, and it seemed as if they could not deliver us
our boxes fast enough. Negroes would carry them over to the lower
middle room and then the roll would be called.
When my name was finally reached I seized my blanket and quilt and
got a couple of friends to go with me to the room, where a good large
box was waiting to be receipted for. They opened the box, while I
spread both blanket and quilt on the floor in great excitement and
feverish expectation. They emptied the contents upon my receptacles;
next a couple of rebs sat down, each armed with a marline spike made
for the purpose, and began overhauling and searching the contents. The
salt, sugar, coffee and pepper were scattered all over everything;
they reached a roll of butter--think of it, a roll of butter!--and in
that the spike struck something hard, upon examination of which they
found to be a small glass vial in which had been placed a ten-dollar
greenback. No sooner had they laid eyes upon that ten than they
appropriated it to their own use. The despised Uncle Sam's money was a
very Godsend to them, the cowardly robbers. It is needless to say that
I never saw the ten-dollar greenback again. I was permitted to lug my
blanket and quilt, with what motley stuff they contained, upstairs, and
I studied for some time how to separate the sugar from the sausage, and
the salt from the coffee, and I must confess it required some brainwork
to so arrange my provender as to make any part of it palatable. Still I
finally concluded that I was a lucky man to be even permitted to look
upon the relics of the good things that my friends in the north had
taken so much pains to send me, and I said again, "How grand it is to
be among a chivalric people." On the morning of the fifth the old negro
who distributed the morning papers down Franklin Street was heard to
cry: "A Great Battle on the Rapidan! Great News from the Rapidan! Full
Account of the Battle of the Rapidan!"
My! what an effect this had upon us captives. Our boxes came in thicker
and faster until finally old Libby looked like a great storehouse or
supply depot, and once more our expectations were raised to a fever
heat, only to have them again dashed below the zero mark.
On the morning of the eighth, after roll call, we were informed that an
order had been issued for our immediate removal and that we would only
be allowed to take one blanket or quilt, which was to be held open as
we passed out of the door. We were to receive our rations outside. What
a surprise this was to us after all the promises that had been made to
us. A perfect bedlam ensued; men would grab up their best books, copies
of Dickens, Shakespeare, law books, medical works, magazines, novels,
tear out the leaves by the handful and throw the empty covers down on
the floor. Next came the groceries, sugar, coffee, pepper, salt, soap,
sardines, pineapples and cheese from New York; soused mackeral from
Maine; pickled eels from Massachusetts; all sowed broadcast on the
floor and mixed into a conglomerate mass a foot or two deep.
We started and at the head of the stairs I turned to take a last,
farewell look. I could see many a short piece of candle that had been
lighted and stuck fast to the plate which supported the roof, the
blaze beginning to lap up the sheeting, but I did not stop to look
back again, the outside was good enough for me. I passed down and out
through the door, holding my blanket open, and received my hunk of corn
bread as I passed out. We started up Franklin Street on the pavement,
and, oh, how rough it was after seven months on the smooth floor of
the prison. We had bid adieu to old Libby with all its horrors and
terrors, yet it proved to be the best prison of my experience.
After marching awhile we turned to the left, then came thoughts of
Belle Isle. But, no, we were not destined for that place, for we passed
over the bridge, across the island and on to the depot, where we were
put aboard some old freight cars. The bell rang, the wheels began to
roll, and soon we were whirling over the iron rails. The cars were
filthy with dirt, but the atmosphere was fresh, the meadows green and
the air fragrant with the perfume of apple and peach trees in full
bloom, and I assure you that it was a fragrance we all enjoyed for the
time permitted; it was the free air of heaven.
It was the eighth of May and we were moving in a south-westerly course,
our destiny being an enigma to us. Late in the afternoon we pulled
into Danville, where we were unloaded and marched to a large brick
building, which had just been evacuated by other prisoners. Around
the outside of the building were a number of Union men, who were just
convalescing from the smallpox; scabs were falling off and the men
pitting nicely; however, we escaped contagion. We were only confined
here about two weeks when we were again put aboard the cars and started
south, passing through Charlotte, N.C., and Augusta, Ga., thence west
to Macon. Here we left the train and were marched to the fair grounds,
which covered about four acres. It was enclosed by a high board fence,
with a platform and sentry boxes on the outside for the guard. When
we got inside we found one large rustic building near the center,
(floral hall) and in the north-west corner was an open shed, fourteen
feet wide by over one hundred feet long, which had been built for our
predecessors, who in turn had made cots or bunks by driving stakes
into the ground about two feet apart, covering them over with boughs
and limbs, and leaving just enough room between each one for a man to
walk without inconvenience. I was fortunate enough to get one near the
center, which was high and gave me a good shelter.