DISAPPOINTMENT AND MORE WAITING
About the second day afterward circumstances indicated that our
intention to escape was known to the officers of the guard. They would
come into our room, ostensibly for a friendly visit, but we noticed that
they were examining the windows and floor while chatting with us. Within
a foot of the building was a six-foot board fence, and that was taken
away, giving the sentry on duty a full view of our side of the walls.
Then we knew, for certain, that something was wrong. On Saturday morning
permission was obtained to have the room floor scrubbed. Everything was
piled on the table and a general housecleaning took place. All of us
then went into the yard until the floor got dry. As we anticipated, the
officer on duty went into the room during our absence and gave it a
thorough inspection, but nothing was discovered. We congratulated
ourselves upon the successful issue of our game of bluff.
Sunday night, about eight o'clock, we heard an unusual noise in the
guard-room, which sounded very much like sawing a hole in the floor.
After a while the racket ceased, and we resumed our slumbers. Suddenly
our room door was opened, Captain Sennes with several of the guards
walked in, some armed with muskets and others with lighted candles. We
were counted and reported as "all present."
"Gentlemen, I have found your hole!" was the startling announcement.
The whole affair was so ludicrous and unexpected that we began laughing.
Captain Sennes was excited, and well pleased with the idea of having
discovered our plan of escape.
"Now, gentlemen, I shall have to keep a guard in your room for the
remainder of the night."
Of course we had no objections. About three o'clock in the morning he
changed his mind and ordered us to be escorted into the room occupied by
Williams and Porter. All the little portable articles we possessed,
which might tempt the cupidity of the rebs, were hastily gathered up and
our change of quarters soon effected. There was no more sleep for us. So
much excitement in one night was too much for our delicate systems.
In the morning Captain Sennes concluded to confine the navy and army
officers on the second floor. That part of the building was the "bull
pen" for the conscripts. Every part of South Carolina was thoroughly
searched for shirkers from military duty. The "poor whites," as they
were called, would be taken from their families, manacled two together,
and brought to the jail. When a squad of fifty was obtained, they would
be sent to the front and distributed among different regiments. As a
class they were very ignorant, but few of them knowing what the war was
about.
"What do you 'uns want to come down here and whip we 'uns for?" was
their only argument. But at the same time they would fight--there was
no mistaking that fact.
Our new quarters were very uncomfortable in many respects: there were
dirt and filth everywhere. An old box-stove in a small room was our
fire-place. The conscripts had no firewood, so they had used the doors
and frames for fuel, then the window-sashes and casings were utilized,
and next was the lath from the partitions. That floor had plenty of
ventilation. No difference which way the wind would come from, we got
the full benefit of it. The rooms were divided between us, the army
taking one side of the building, the naval officers the other, the
hall-way being used as a promenade by all the tenants. No attempt was
made to keep us separate as in the past, for the reason that the doors
and partitions were lacking. The view of the city in our locality was
very good. When we got tired of looking from one side of the building we
could cross over and take a view in the opposite direction. The
newspapers had blood-curdling articles in regard to our attempt at
escaping. We were alluded to as "Yankee hirelings," and other pet names
were bestowed upon us. Even poor Mrs. Crane got a roasting because her
house happened to be over the exit of the tunnel. Quite a number of
visitors came to the jail to view our work, but finally the whole affair
became stale and forgotten. Then it occurred to Captain Sennes that it
would be quite proper to plug the hole up. He was very anxious to know
who engineered the work, but, very naturally, every one was bashful
about claiming that honour. At last he unbosomed himself: "Gentlemen, as
you constructed the tunnel, probably you can inform me how to fill it
up." Now that question was a poser to all of us. A great many
suggestions were made, but all proved unsatisfactory. Finally, the
captain had the shaft filled up with brickbats and broken bottles. In
the passage-way between the two buildings they dug down to the tunnel
and put in a load of clay. With every rainstorm the clay would settle
and leave a big hole. From observation and much debating on the subject,
it was conceded that the proper plan would have been to dig it up from
end to end. Our new quarters were quite uncomfortable. I devised all
sorts of schemes to keep myself warm at night. Sleeping on a bare floor,
the lack of blankets, and the cold wind, made a combination which it was
useless to contend against. All I could do was to wait patiently for
daylight, and then, by walking and exercising, get myself warmed up.
The sixty privates in the yard also caught the tunnel mania. The
barracks had a wooden floor. Two boards were removed, and an excavation
made to the rear of the building. The exit was in an adjoining garden.
Not much skill in engineering was displayed on their part. They simply
dug until they felt like stopping. The distance from the surface was
ascertained by pushing a stick up through the ground. It was left there
projecting above the surface. We were informed of their plans and
intention to escape that night. It seems that Captain Sennes was also
fully posted as to what was going on. A number of the rebs were
stationed in the garden. The stick projecting from the ground indicated
the place from which the prisoners would emerge. Orders were given to
let a number of the Yankees come out, then to fire into the crowd and
kill as many as possible. Fortunately, the first man to come out--Peter
Keefe--happened to see one of the rebs. He gave the alarm to his
companions. Being still on his hands and knees, he thought his best
chance would be in making a bold run for liberty. As he jumped up a reb
fired, the bullet shattering Keefe's left knee. The leg had to be
amputated. The next day all the privates were removed from the yard and
confined with us. That made affairs still worse, there being hardly
space enough for us to lie down at night. Two escaped prisoners from
Andersonville were added to our numbers. They arrived late at night,
and, as it was dark, we could not see what they looked like. The
lieutenant of the guard asked us to find a place for them to lie down.
Brayton slept on the table. Calling the men, he said they could find
room enough underneath.
After daylight we gathered around our new companions. They were still
handcuffed together. It was a pitiful sight to look at them, dirty and
ragged, with their ankles swollen up by scurvy. The face of one of them
was badly swollen, and covered with pustules. The surgeon was at once
sent for. He pronounced it to be small-pox. The sick man was sent to the
pest-house; his companion was isolated in the barracks. The first one
finally recovered, but his companion caught the infection and died. In a
few days Brayton showed symptoms of small-pox, was removed to the
pest-house, and also died. William Brayton was a sail-maker in the
United States navy; his rank was that of warrant officer, a distinct
grade from the line or staff officers. He was wounded and taken prisoner
during the midnight surprise attack on Fort Sumter by the navy. A bullet
had shattered his right forearm, and also went through the fleshy part
of his right leg. Fortunately Captain Sennes realized the danger of
having the officers and privates confined together. Besides, it was not
a customary thing on either side, and, consequently, the privates were
returned to the barracks in the yard, much to our satisfaction. They had
the freedom of the yard nearly all day, which made them satisfied with
the change.
I commenced to feel sick and discouraged, and had an inclination to lie
on the floor continually. The surgeon examined me and gave me some
quinine pills, saying that I probably had malarial fever. For several
mornings he visited me, and was very particular about looking at my
tongue. Finally a peculiar white mark showed on the tip end. There was
no mistaking that mark. I had typhoid fever. Orders were given to send
for the ambulance, and have me taken to the hospital. A large church on
the outskirts of the town was to be my future abode. It was called the
Second North Carolina Hospital. Why it received that name I could never
find out. Opposite to it was the beautiful mansion and grounds belonging
to General Wade Hampton, the pride of South Carolina. That misguided
hero went through the war all right, only to lose a leg afterward, most
unromantically, by a kick from a mule.