PRISON LIFE AND PRISON FARE
Eleven naval officers gave us a most cordial reception when the captain
in charge of the prison introduced us as fresh fish. All were eager to
learn the latest news of the war, and especially about the prospects of
exchanging prisoners of war in the near future. Now it happened that we
were well posted on the "exchange" question--namely, that the
authorities at Washington had notified the rebels that the cartel was
ended, and no more exchanges would be made. Our men, when received, were
disabled from duty on account of sickness caused by lack of proper food
and clothing, as well as inhuman treatment. On the other hand, the
rebels were returned in better health and more comfortably clothed than
at the time of capture. The advantage to the rebel army, under the
circumstances, would be too great to permit of any further exchanges. It
was policy to let the Union men remain as prisoners, as they would be
useless for a long time for active duty. Keeping the rebels in prison
would deprive the rebel army of a large number of able men, who,
released, would be immediately available for active duty.
Our fellow-prisoners were down-hearted at first, when told the dictum;
but soon their cheerful remarks showed that they believed our Government
was pursuing a wise course under the circumstances. The jail was a
three-story building, the two lower floors being used exclusively for
the confinement of debtors. The third story was fitted up with cells for
the criminals. At that time there was no State prison in South Carolina.
The longest sentence a prisoner could receive was two and one half years
in jail. Murder, robbery, burglary, arson, and rape were punishable by
death. A man whose punishment was commuted from death could only be
confined for the maximum jail sentence. We fourteen naval officers were
confined in one room on the first floor. The size of the apartment was
sixteen by twenty feet. When we lay on the floor at night there was but
little vacant space. Sixteen army officers were confined in a room on
the other side of the main hall. One half-hour in the morning and in the
afternoon was allowed us to go into the yard, in order to wash and
attend to our toilet, and only four were permitted to go at one time.
For that reason we had to be in a hurry, so as to give all an
opportunity. When the half-hour had expired, we were counted and the
door locked. The army officers were then let out for the same length of
time. We received our rations every ten days, in an uncooked condition.
Unbolted corn-meal was the staple food. Two ounces of old, mouldy bacon
was allowed each person for the ten days, that being the only animal
food we received. Sometimes a small quantity of rice was also allowed.
In the yard was a small brick building used as a kitchen, where the
cooking was done. Opposite, and extending the whole length of the yard,
was an old wooden barracks in which were confined about sixty privates.
One private was detailed for the navy and one for the army officers. Not
much skill was required for the cooking, but considerable ingenuity was
needed to devise ways and means. In our mess the officers had managed to
get a table, two long benches, ten pie-plates, and some knives and
forks. Two meals a day was all that our rations would stand. This was
our regular menu for about nine months for every meal: Corn-meal,
slapjacks, corn-bread, corn-meal gravy, and corn-meal coffee. Our bacon
was used for making the gravy and greasing the old tin pan which we
utilized as a griddle. Corn-meal was burned nearly black for making the
coffee. At one time our rations missed connections for nearly two days,
and there was woe and agony. We divided the time about equally in
damning the Confederacy and praying for something to eat. There were two
iron-barred windows in our room which overlooked the yard of our
next-door neighbour. A man, wife, and little boy lived there. A passage
way about twelve feet wide separated the jail and a one-story cottage.
One of our windows was exactly opposite their bedroom window, but both
too high from the ground for the rebel sentry on guard in the passage
way to see into either of them. Our neighbour's name was Crane. The
family were strong Unionists, and we carried on a daily conversation by
slate-writing. All the latest news was given to us, as well as any
information which we desired.
Mr. Crane was a young man about thirty years of age, and he had a
special permit from the rebel government exempting him from military
service, on account of being a wagon-maker and needed by the citizens in
Columbia to do their work. A girl about eighteen years old finally came
to reside with the family. We immediately christened her "Union Mary,"
and kept that girl busy receiving and throwing kisses at us. She seemed
to have nothing else to do but to watch our window. As we had plenty of
leisure time, some one of the party was continually making distant love
to her. At last she let us know that she wanted to go North and live
with the Yankees. Nearly all of us wrote a letter telling her how to get
a pass through the lines and recommending her to our relatives. She
succeeded all right. The father of one of the officers got her a good
situation and gave her a fine start in life, out of gratitude for the
news which she brought him from his son.
A few weeks afterward Mr. Crane was ordered to report for military duty
at Richmond. He and several companions got off the cars at the nearest
point to our lines and were successful in getting through. The next we
heard of him was through his wife, who said that he had reached New York
city and was earning very high wages at his trade.
A company of home guards, composed of fifty men under command of a
captain, first, second, and third lieutenants, were our guardian angels.
The guard-room adjoined ours on the first floor. Their camp was outside
the city limits. Every morning, at eight o'clock, the relief would come
in and remain on duty for twenty-four hours. We became well acquainted
with all, and were quite sociable. Three of the privates let us know
that they were Union sympathizers. Many a favour they did for us, by
assisting us to communicate with Union people in the city. In the month
of March, 1864, all hopes of being exchanged before the ending of the
war were given up. Every one of us was in favour of making an attempt to
escape from prison, if possible. Lieutenant Preston and myself were to
do the engineering part; the others agreed to work under our
instructions. Preston was a regular officer, and myself being a
volunteer removed any cause for believing that any favouritism would be
shown during the progress of building a tunnel. After eight in the
evening the guards never opened our door. Then we commenced operations.
A large brick fire-place was situated between the two windows. The
bricks on one end were taken up and a hole was made that allowed us to
get under the floor. Preston and myself worked nearly all night. First,
we stopped up several ventilating holes with pieces of clay and brick.
All the brickbats were piled in a corner to be out of our way. We found
there would be plenty of space to pile up the dirt that would be taken
from the tunnel, the height of the floor from the ground being about
three feet. Directly under the window facing Crane's house we started a
shaft three feet square. The dirt, as we removed it, was piled over the
ventilating hole; there being no danger of any noise being heard by the
sentry in the alley or a light seen, we ceased operations for the night.
The bricks in the fire-place were replaced, and we retired for the night
to our luxurious couches--the bare floor--for much-needed rest. The
entrance to our lower regions must be attended to first, as the bricks
had a very insecure foundation. One of the guards very kindly consented
to carry our compliments and a request to Mrs. Crane for the loan of a
saw, hammer, nails, and a piece of board, as we wished to make a shelf.
During the afternoon we had everything in readiness. The bricks were
removed and put in a soap box, cleats were hastily nailed to the floor
timbers, pieces of board laid across, and the bricks replaced. Ashes
were then filled into the cracks. It was a first-class job when
finished, and we could defy detection. One of us went into the kitchen
in the yard and stole our own poker from the cook. It was a piece of
flat iron, and the only instrument procurable for excavating purposes.
The officers were divided into working parties, two in each squad, each
to work two hours at a time. Preston would direct and assist in the
work, from eight until twelve midnight, and I from twelve to four in the
morning.
It was necessary to be careful about the construction of the tunnel, as
it was to be run under a sentry's feet. If there should happen to be a
cave-in and a reb drop down among the toilers, it would be rather
embarrassing. Crane's house was built in the Southern style for all
wooden buildings, resting on supports about two feet in height. Our
objective point was about the centre of his habitation. We could crawl
to the other side, and by getting over a board fence would practically
become "prisoners-at-large."
The ground was favourable for our work, being composed of stiff red
clay. All felt happy and cheerful as the work progressed, and the
monotony of being so closely confined was somewhat relieved. On the
corner of the square in which the jail was located was the city hall. We
could hear the hours and half hours as they were struck, quite plainly,
so we had no trouble about the time of quitting work. It was necessary
for us to have a point to start our measurements from, and after much
discussion, we selected a window-sill in our room directly over the
tunnel-shaft. It was a strange place to locate it, but from that point
every part of the work was measured to an inch. By fastening a wad of
wet paper to a thread we ascertained the exact distance between Crane's
house and the inside of the jail wall. One of us held the thread on the
window-sill while the other kept throwing the wad until it struck the
clapboard. When the sentry walked past our window he gave us the
opportunity, and, by lowering the wad to the ground, we got the height
of the passage-way which the sentry patroled. The shaft was sunk nine
feet, and was considerably lower than the foundation of the building.
Then the tunnel was started, being two feet wide and three feet in
height, the top being arched. For a distance of fourteen feet it was
perfectly level, then it was started on an angle towards the surface of
the ground.
About that time we had to stop operations for a few days. Orders had
been sent by General Beauregard to put Lieutenant-Commander E. P.
Williams and Ensign Benjamin Porter in irons, and hold them as hostages
for a rebel naval lieutenant, who was sentenced to be hanged by the
Federal Government for piracy on Lake Erie. Williams was selected as the
highest in rank, Porter for the reason that he had the most influential
friends. The two officers were shackled together, hands and legs, and
were doomed to be inseparable companions for the time being, with a
chance of being hanged. Not knowing but that the officers or guards
might enter our room during the night to look at the hostages, it was
deemed advisable to leave the tunnel alone. The handcuffs and shackles
were of the old style, shutting together by a spring bolt. To open them
the key was inserted, and turning it a number of times would screw the
bolt back. The key and spindle had threads cut like a common bolt and
nut. Sailors understood the mechanism perfectly. By taking a piece of
soft wood the size of the keyhole and boring a hole in the centre
slightly smaller than the spindle, and twisting it around in the
keyhole, threads would be cut in it, and the handcuffs opened. Another
plan was to make a slip-noose of fine twine, and by slipping it over the
spindle, the bolt could also be drawn back. During business hours our
two unfortunate companions were fettered together, but the remainder of
the time they could meander around separately. We had plenty of
amusement in drilling them to get into proper position for being
shackled as soon as there was any indication of the door being opened.
Supplementary orders soon arrived that Porter and Williams should be
confined by themselves in a separate room. A small room next to that of
the army officers was selected. Being on the first floor, it was an easy
matter for us to release them when we were ready to escape. Work was at
once resumed. Our greatest difficulty was in getting candles enough to
supply us with light. Finally, the last night's work was finished. The
tunnel was twenty-two feet in length. According to our diagram we were
six inches from the surface of the ground under Crane's house. We were
afraid to make a small hole to the surface to make sure that our
measurements were correct, for if there should be any depression in the
ground, the first rainstorm would let the water into our excavation. We
divided ourselves into parties of two or three, each to select our own
route to the Federal lines. A small school atlas was borrowed, and maps
made of the different routes we intended to take. Lieutenant Brower,
Arrants, and myself decided to go south twenty-five miles, and follow
the Santee River east to the sea-coast, then taking our chances of
reaching a Federal gunboat. Corn-meal was baked brown, and with a
little salt added, by mixing it with water it would be ready for eating.
Matches were put into bottles to prevent them from getting wet. In fact,
all preparations were made for our journey that we could think of.
It occasionally happens that people make fools of themselves in
assisting others. Well, that is just what we did; some of us thought it
would not be right to leave the army officers behind. A vote was taken
and all were in favour of giving the army officers a chance to go with
us. They were notified and one week's time given them in which to get
ready. They were instructed to be cautious, and that we would make an
opening in their fire-place also as soon as Porter and Williams were
released. The latter were to have the first chance for their liberty.