BORROWING SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS OF A REB.
Along in January, 1865, I began to get short of money, and as the jewelry,
watches, etc., were about played out, I was in danger of being obliged to
suspend, for want of stock to sell from. Just at this time, the reb
Sergeant came in one day and inquired if any one had greenbacks, they
wished to exchange for Confederate money.
He came to our mess, as it was the one most likely to be able to
accommodate him, and said there was a gentleman outside who would give
seven hundred dollars in Confederate for one hundred in greenbacks, or, if
we had not the currency, a check on Riggs & Co.'s bank, of Washington,
D. C., would be accepted, provided we would write a letter and give it to
him, asking our friends at home to deposit the amount there, stating that
we had drawn a check for one hundred dollars on that bank, to subsist
ourselves while in prison.
I took seven hundred dollars of him and Lieutenant Leyden of my mess, took
the same amount, just to accommodate him; and I wrote the required letter
to my wife, while Leyden wrote one to his brother, in Rochester, N. Y.
These checks and letters were given by him to General Hayes, who had been
ordered to Richmond, as was supposed, for exchange; and who agreed to
bring them through the lines, and forward the letters to their address,
and deposit the checks with Riggs & Co. When I got all this money I was
flush again; and distributed it around among my friends and comrades, ten
dollars to one, and twenty to another, as their necessities seemed to
warrant, keeping what I thought would do me until I got out, or could make
another raise.
I laid in quite a stock of provisions for myself, and helped those of my
friends who had no money, and needed something more than the rations they
drew to live upon.
Colonel Smith had established a rule, that three officers could go every
day, under a guard of two soldiers, to visit their friends in the
hospital, a mile or so distant, by applying for permission by letter to
him. Applications for this privilege would be filed, and permission
granted when their turn came; it might be a week after the application was
filed, before we could go. Lieutenant Leyden, myself and another, made our
application, and waited for our turn, to take a walk of a couple of miles
in the open air; for this was really all we wished to do. We were called
out one day soon after, and with two guards over us, strolled over to the
hospital, which was about a mile from where we were confined. We had a
nice walk, and as we were returning, we asked the guard to take us into a
saloon, where we could get a drink before we went back to prison.
The guard did not know whether they would be allowed to do this, but
meeting an officer they asked him, if it would be right to go with us. Why
of course, said he, take them wherever they want to go. They then took us
into a little ten by twelve room, where there was a bar, and I asked all
hands to have a drink. Applejack was the only beverage, so all five of us
took that; and thinking as the Governor of North Carolina, has been quoted
as saying to the Governor of South Carolina, that "it's a long time
between drinks," I set 'em up again. The guards refused to drink a second
time, probably fearing that it might incapacitate them from properly
guarding us, so I only had eight drinks to pay for altogether. We were not
given a bottle and glasses to help ourselves as is usual, but the
bartender poured out a wine glass full for each. How much do you want I
asked, pulling out a roll of Confederate; forty dollars was his reply. I
handed him a fifty dollar bill and receiving my change, went on, stopping
at two or three stores on the way back to make other purchases. We had a
jolly time that night and whooped things up a little, for by the time we
got back into prison, the applejack, which was old and powerful, began to
work, and we were just in the proper frame of mind to make things look
cheerful to us. I am afraid we were somewhat annoying to some of our
comrades who wanted to sleep that night, and not having had any applejack
could not appreciate the fun.
I shall never forget the Christmas dinner I ate in Danville prison in
1864, and I do not think any of the half dozen who dined with me that day,
will ever forget it either. I bought a turkey weighing thirteen and
three-fourths pounds for forty dollars, and took it over to the bake-shop
to be roasted. The cooks were Union soldiers, who did the baking for the
sake of getting better rations, and I got them to stuff the turkey with
crusts of white bread, that they had baked for the rebs.
They brought it in nicely roasted, and I managed, by giving one of the
guards ten dollars, to get a canteen of applejack, and I also bought a
loaf of white bread, so that we had quite a civilized dinner. Six of us
sat down together, viz: General Hayes, Captain Seeley, Captain Albert
Thomas, Lieutenant Leyden, Lieutenant VanDerweed, and myself, "and we
drank from the same canteen." Talk about starvation in Southern prisons!
Why just see what a dinner six of us had that day; and all it cost was
about seventy dollars. We could live like that nearly two weeks on a
thousand dollars.
Of course every prisoner did not have the money to afford these luxuries,
and were obliged to put up with the corn bread ration, served out by the
rebel authorities; but the Confederate government "of course was not to
blame if the poor boys starved, because they did not have money to buy
all they wanted." There was plenty to eat, only our boys did not have the
money to buy it with. I never asked Riggs & Co. whether they ever paid
that check for seven hundred dollars or not, and have forgotten the name
of the generous hearted reb who loaned it to me, but this I know, that I
am still indebted to some one for my good fare for a month or two, during
my last days in Danville. Now I have told you how I managed to get a
living in Danville, and will tell how some others managed to get theirs.
I have spoken of Captain H. H. Alban, who was my companion during the
latter part of my tramp through South Carolina, Georgia and North
Carolina, and who was recaptured with me. The same opportunities were
afforded him to make money enough to subsist himself, as were enjoyed by
me, but he was not adapted to buying and selling. He earned money enough
to get along, however, by hard labor.
He would go out with the water detail once in a while, and when he came
back he would bring along on his shoulder a good straight stick of cord
wood. Then with a case knife that he had made into a saw, he would cut it
up into pieces about eight inches long, and with wooden wedges that he had
whittled out, would split these up fine, say about half an inch thick, and
tie them up into bundles for cooking rations with. These bundles would be
about six inches in diameter and eight inches long, which he would sell
for two dollars each.
By being economical, one of these bundles of hard wood splinters, (they
were usually beach or maple) would last a person two or three days to cook
his rations with.
Nearly all of the cooking was done in one quart tin pails or in tin
plates.
Broken pieces of flat iron were sometimes used to build the fires upon,
but most of the prisoners cooked on the stoves that were in the two rooms.
Some of the officers in the different prisons made beautiful trinkets out
of beef bones, such as napkin rings, paper cutters, crochet needles, pen
holders, imitations of books, etc., and sold them to their
fellow-prisoners to take home with them as souvenirs of their prison life.
Some of these bone-workers were skilled artists, and could fashion
anything out of a beef bone. I have seen as fine a piece of work of this
kind, done with the rude tools that the mechanic had made himself, as I
have ever seen made with the latest and most approved machinery. Carving
of the most exquisite patterns, and in beautiful designs could be seen in
one of these collections.
I remember of seeing one napkin-ring carved out in open work, connected
with a continuous vine with beautiful clusters of grapes, the price of
which was $100. I bought, and brought home with me, $35 worth of these
trinkets.
A number of us belonging to five or six different messes bought a small
cook stove for which we paid, I believe, a hundred or a hundred and fifty
dollars. There were two griddle holes in it and a small oven in which one
loaf of bread could be baked at a time. It was an old affair that here
would not bring more than it would come to as old iron, but to us it was a
great treasure. We arranged among ourselves to take turns cooking upon it,
for instance one would have the first use of it one day, and then the next
day he would be the last to use it, and so each in their turn would have
the first chance to cook for one day.
Those who had the last chance would have a pretty late breakfast, dinner
and supper, for it would take each one at least half an hour to get a
meal. Those who had no means of cooking their rations, would come and beg
the privilege of setting their tin cups on our stove to warm their coffee,
which was usually made out of burnt rye or peas, and sometimes of scorched
wheat bran.
Every morning the whole surface of the stove would be covered with these
tin cups during the whole time the stove was in use; and even after the
different messes had all got through it would be engaged by outside
parties for nearly the whole day, each taking their turns in the order
that their applications were made. Of course those who owned a share in
the stove always took precedence if they wished to do any extra cooking or
baking during the day. We often used to make griddle cakes for breakfast,
either out of our corn bread rations soaked up in water with a little corn
meal added, or mixed up with flour and water with sometimes an egg
stirred in if we could afford it, but as eggs were twelve to fifteen
dollars a dozen this expensive luxury was dispensed with most of the time.
The two large Peckham stoves for warming the room were always in use, the
boys hanging their pails by hooked wires against the hot sides so that,
especially in the morning, they would be completely encircled with these
hanging pails, and there would always be a crowd waiting for the next
chance. Some would hold their cups by the handle against the stove,
changing hands whenever it became too hot, and others would stand, holding
a pail out on a stick run through the bale.
Quarrels were frequent over their turns, for all were tenacious of their
rights, and there, as here, some were always ready for a quarrel, and very
jealous of their rights and watchful lest they were trespassed upon.
There were at least three artists in this Danville prison, viz: Captain
Albert Thomas, who now has a studio in Syracuse, N. Y., Lieutenant
VanDerweed and another, whose name I do not now remember; but almost every
prisoner who was confined in Danville, will remember him as the officer
who was once sent down the river from Richmond for exchange, but who,
while passing Fort Fisher, was detected by the Confederate officer in
charge, in making a sketch of that fortification, and return to prison. He
was finally paroled with the rest of us, and we chaffed him considerable
while we were going down the river, some of the boys teasing him to make
them a sketch of the Reb iron-clads in the river, or of Fort Fisher.
Lieutenant VanDerweed made a number of sketches of prison scenes and some
fine pencil sketches of officers. He also went outside to make pencil
sketches of Confederate gentlemen and ladies, and while thus engaged, of
course, lived well and enjoyed pleasant society.
Captain Albert Thomas was solicited to do the same, but said in his
expressive way, that he would starve and see all the rebs in ---- (he
mentioned some warm climate) before he would make a picture of one of
them. He made some excellent pencil sketches of different officers in the
prison and among them one of Colonel W. C. Raulston, who met so sad a fate
in the attempted outbreak on the Tenth of December, 1864, but this sketch
unfortunately, was lost.
He also made a good one of myself, from which I have procured a cut for
this volume, and which I highly prize.
There were also in Danville, as in other prisons where I was confined,
sutlers who bought provisions of the Johnnies and sold to their comrades
at a profit. They would buy two or three pounds of bacon of the Johnnies
and cut it up into small pieces of about two ounces each, and sell these
to their comrades, who either had not money enough to buy more, or were
too fond of their own comfort to go down stairs at eleven o'clock at night
to buy of the guard.
[Illustration: PENCIL SKETCH OF AUTHOR, BY THOMAS, AT DANVILLE.]