Daring and Suffering Part 12

Here the routine of prison life did not differ materially from that at Atlanta. We had to go down to the court (the building was square, and built with an open court in the center) to wash in the morning, and were immediately taken back to our stall, and locked up. But the princ.i.p.al difference was our want of fire. This made it our greatest difficulty to keep warm, and effectually destroyed all those pleasant fireside chats that had done so much to make our condition endurable in the Atlanta barracks.

As the darkness and coldness of night drew on, we were compelled to pace the floor, trying to keep warm; and when sleep became a necessity, we would all pile down in a huddle, as pigs sometimes do, and spread over us the thin protection of our two bits of carpet. Thus we would lie until too cold to remain longer, and then arise and resume our walk. We had always plenty of light, except when the awkwardness of the gas managers left the whole city in darkness, which was frequently the case.

We never omitted our devotions. For awhile the deserters outside, who were composed of the very sc.u.m of Southern society, many of them being the rowdies, gamblers, and cutthroats of the large cities, tried to interrupt us by every means in their power; but finding that their efforts produced no effect, they finally gave over, and left us to pursue our own way in peace. We found afterward, when, for a short time, we were put among them, that they respected us the more for it. Thus it will always be when perseverance is exercised in a good cause.

A few days after our arrival, we noticed a great stir among the prisoners at the Libby, which was plainly in view across the road, and but a short distance from us. We learned that a truce-boat had arrived. Soon a body of United States soldiers came up the street by us, and our five friends with them. As they pa.s.sed our window, they waved their hands in farewell, and continued their journey. No doubt they were soon with their friends at home.[11] The parting was a hard one for us. It seemed so much like fulfilling the pa.s.sage of Scripture-"One shall be taken and the other left," that we turned away from the window feeling again the gloom which darkened the first day of our arrival. We felt utterly deserted and alone; yet we were glad that some had been able to escape from the power of this accursed rebellion, "every throb of whose life is a crime against the very race to which we belong."

In the dead sameness which now settled down again over our prison-life, we had a delightful daily oasis, in reading the newspapers. In Richmond we were not, as elsewhere, debarred their perusal, and there was always some one who had money enough to buy them, and then charity enough to lend them all over the prison. In this way, we were enabled to see most of the dailies published. As soon as we received one, all the party would gather around, while I read the news and editorials aloud.

The time of our arrival was an exciting one. Burnside had just made his celebrated advance, and as we read of his crossing the river, we breathed a prayer that he would be successful, and continue onward to Richmond. Had he done so, we would either have fallen into his hands or been removed. In the latter case, we would have made a desperate effort to escape, for we had firmly resolved never to be moved again without making a strike for freedom.

But soon came the sad news of his repulse-sad to us, but causing the greatest rejoicings among the rebels, who felt that they had escaped a great danger, and renewed the life of their tottering treason.

We missed the books we were no longer able to borrow, and planned all kinds of means to obtain them. Among other expedients, I managed to sell my hat. It was a fine one, and had formerly belonged to Jack Wells; but one day when he was drunk enough to be in a clever humor, he took mine, which was a very poor one, from me, and put his own on my head, saying that I looked better in that. No doubt he intended to trade back, but forgot it when we started away, and so left me in possession. I sold this hat for three dollars and a half, and bought another extremely poor one for half a dollar, leaving me three dollars of available funds; which, added to five more afterward obtained from a Union man, made quite a fortune. With this I tried to procure a book I wanted. I gave the money to the corporal who attended the prison, but he kept it several days, and then returned it to me. I next tried one of the officers of the prison, but met with no better success. Determined not to be baffled, I dropped the money through a crack in the floor to a lady prisoner below, who was allowed to go out in town, but in a few days she, too, sent it back, saying that the book was not in Richmond.

Still persevering, I wrote the names of several books on a slip of paper, and gave it to Chillis, the commissary, who wanted us hung when we first came, but who was, nevertheless, the kindest official of the prison; he likewise returned it, saying that none of the books named were to be found. I then yielded, and reserved my money for the next best purpose to which it could be applied-to buy bread, which I often needed. We could at first get small cakes for ten cents apiece; but they afterward rose to fifteen. We had to take postage stamps in change, and, having no pocket-book to carry them in, they would often become torn and cracked, which rendered them worthless. Thus we lost a considerable portion of our precious money.

We soon became very restless and discontented here, and revolved desperate plans of escape. It seemed like a hopeless prospect, for we were in the third story, and could only escape by pa.s.sing at each door through successive relays of guards, all of which had a reserve ready to cooperate with them in case of alarm. Our room was next to the jailor's office, and on the opposite side was a row of rooms containing all kinds of prisoners. The one next to us was occupied by a number of Federal soldiers-some charged with being spies, and others with murder.

One of the latter was Captain Webster. He was a young and most handsome man, not over twenty-two years of age. He had, on one occasion, been sent to take a notorious guerilla captain, named Simpson, who was then hiding within our lines. When he was found, Webster summoned him to surrender. Instead of doing so he fired his pistol and started to run; but Webster also fired, and mortally wounded him.

When Webster was subsequently taken prisoner, he was held for the murder of Simpson, and confined in the room next to us. The charge I have repeatedly heard, not only from himself and fellow prisoners, but from the officers of the prison. Judge of my surprise, then, on reading, since my return home, of the hanging of Webster for violating his parole. This being a charge that the law of war would visit with death, the Confederates officially lied in subst.i.tuting the one charge for the other, in order to justify themselves, and prevent retaliation.

Webster, too, was tired of confinement, and ready to risk all in a bold strike for freedom. The decision was soon made, and Christmas evening was the time fixed for the attempt. There were a number of citizens in the room below, who were in a more favorable situation for initiating the movement than we were. We had opened telegraphic communication, as we had done before at Atlanta, and after full consultation, it was agreed to let these citizens give the signal. This was to be the cry of fire, and when it was heard, we were all to rush upon the guards, and overpower them. There were only about thirty guards in the building, and we had over a hundred and fifty men concerned in the plot. We were, therefore, sure of success if every one performed his part-at least in getting out of the building, which was a less difficult task than leaving the city.

On Christmas eve everything was in readiness with us, and most anxiously did we wait for the signal. The hours rolled slowly on, and midnight pa.s.sed, but no signal was given. We afterward learned that the citizens below failed in courage when the decisive moment came, and thus defeated a plan which would, in all probability, have been successful, and would have startled rebeldom no little in thus bursting open their strongest prison.

The next night we resolved to try once more. And that no faint-heartedness might now interfere, we appointed Webster our leader, knowing that he would not falter. Again we prepared. The locks of all the rooms were drawn except our own, which was so close to the guard that it could not be taken off without great danger of discovery.

Some did not want to go, but were very kind to those of us who did, supplying us with serviceable shoes, and taking our worn-out ones in return. At last everything being in readiness, we again waited for the signal. Those in our room were to remain quiet till it was given, and then burst off the door, which was a light one, and rush on the guard. We took a board that supported the water-bucket, and four of us, holding it as a battering-ram, did not doubt our ability to dash the door into the middle of the large room, and seize the guard before he could make up his mind as to the nature of the a.s.sault.

The other small rooms were soon vacated, the movement being concealed from the observation of the guard, by the inmates of the large room, into which all the others opened, standing up around the doors.

For an instant all was silence. We lifted up our hearts in prayer to G.o.d, that He would be with us, and preserve us through the coming strife, and if consistent with His high will, permit us to regain our liberty.

What can cause the delay? Minute after minute pa.s.ses, and the dead silence is only broken by the throbbing of our own hearts. We stand with the board ready, and our spirits eager for the coming contest, which shall lead us to grapple, with naked arms, the shining bayonets of the guards. We do not doubt the issue, for the hope of liberty inspires us.

But now we see our friends creeping back to their rooms! We grind our teeth with rage and chagrin, but soon hear the explanation, which makes us think that the Lord is indeed watching over us.

Just as our leader was ready to give the signal, a friend pressed to his side, and informed him that we were betrayed, and that an extra guard of over eighty men was drawn up in line before the door, with orders to shoot down every one that issued from it, while still another detachment was ready to close in behind, and make an indiscriminate ma.s.sacre. Had we attempted to carry out our plan, the guard would have yielded before us until we were drawn into the trap, and then they hoped to make such a slaughter as would be a perpetual warning to prison-breakers.

When I first heard this story, I thought it the invention of some weak-nerved individual who feared the trial and the danger of our scheme. But it was true. The next day the Richmond papers contained a full expose of the whole affair, and Captain Alexander, the tyrant who commanded the prison, threatened to have every one engaged in it tied up and whipped. But he finally concluded not to do so, and the excitement pa.s.sed away.

CHAPTER XVI.

Letter sent Home-Alarming Pestilence-Our Quarters Changed-Rowdyism-Fairy Stories-Judge Baxter-Satanic Strategy-Miller's History-An Exchange with a Dead Man-Effect of Democratic Victories-Attempt to Make us Work-Digging out of a Cell-Worse than the Inquisition-Unexpected Interference-List from "Yankee Land"-Clothing Stolen-Paroled-A Night of Joy-Torch-light March-On the Cars-The Boat-Reach Washington-Receive Medals, Money, and Promotion-Home.

All of our party had repeatedly tried to send letters home to let our friends know that we were still alive, but hitherto had failed. Now we had a providential opportunity. Some of the prisoners who were captured at the battle of Murfreesboro' were brought to Richmond, and confined in the bas.e.m.e.nt of our building. While they remained, I wrote a note with a pencil, on the fly-leaf of a book, and when taken down to wash in the morning, slipped around to the door of the Western prisoners, and gave it to an Irishman. He concealed it until he was exchanged, and then mailed it to my father. It produced a great sensation among my friends, most of whom had long since given me up for dead. It was the first that had been heard of our party since the Atlanta escape, and was at once published in my county paper, and copied in many others. The following is the note:

Richmond, Va., January 6th, 1863.

Dear Father-I take the opportunity of writing by a paroled prisoner, to let you know that I am well, and doing as well as could be expected under the circ.u.mstances. I have seen some rather hard times, but the worst is past. Our lives are now safe, but we will be kept during the war, unless something lucky turns up for us. There are six of our original railroad party here yet. Seven were executed in June, and eight escaped in October.

I stand the imprisonment pretty well. The worst of it is to hear of our men getting whipped so often. I hear all the news here; read three or four papers a day. I even know that Bingham was beat in the last election, for which I am very sorry.

The price of everything here is awful. It costs thirty cents to send a letter. This will account for my not writing to all my friends. Give my sincere love to them, and tell them to write to me.

You may write by leaving the letter unsealed, putting in nothing that will offend the Secesh, and directing to Castle Thunder, Richmond, Virginia. I want to know the private news-how many of my friends have fallen. Also tell who has been drafted in our neighborhood, who married, and who like to be. Also if you have a gold dollar at hand, slip it into the letter-not more, as it might tempt the Secesh to hook it. I have tried to send word through to you several times before, but there is now a better chance of communicating since we came from Atlanta to Richmond. Mother, (here referring to religious experience.) * * * * * * *

No doubt you all would like to see me again, but let us have patience; many a better man than I am has suffered more, and many parents are mourning for their children without the hope of seeing them again. So keep your courage up, and do not be uneasy about me. Write as soon as you can, and tell all my friends to do the same.

Ever yours, William Pittenger.

To Thomas Pittenger, New Somerset, Jefferson county, Ohio.

We remained in this prison, reading of the victories of Southern rebels, and the doings of Northern traitors, until the first of February. At that time they wanted our range of rooms for a hospital. This range was not adapted to the purpose, but was at least as good as the garret above, where all who went were sure of death.

Disease was now making fearful havoc. The small-pox prevailed to a frightful extent, and the whole town was alarmed. Men were dying around us every day; none of our party was infected, but many of the Tennesseeans were. It was no wonder that they found it necessary to extend their hospitals, for the treatment we received was well calculated to make the hardiest men sink beneath their trials. But these fearful ravages of pestilence did at least the good of securing our removal from the pen in which we had been confined. At first we were taken to the bedlam I have described before; and even this was better than the loneliness and ennui of our strict confinement.

It seemed like freedom by contrast. We now had a fire also-a luxury which one who has been freezing for two months knows well how to appreciate. It is true it did not warm half the people around it, and these had not the courtesy of our brethern in the Libby; yet it was a great thing to be occasionally warm.

The amus.e.m.e.nts of our new friends were striking, if not elegant. When a dense crowd would gather round the fire, some mischievous Irishman would cry out, "Char-rge, me boys;" and, with his confederates, rush against the ma.s.s, knocking men in all directions, upsetting pots, skinning elbows, and spoiling tempers generally. Fights were of frequent occurrence, and it only needed the addition of intoxicating liquor to const.i.tute a perfect pandemonium.

The evenings were a compensation. After the turmoil of the day was over, and most of those who had blankets had retired to rest, a party of the worst rowdies, who had been annoying us all day, would gather around the stove, and appear in a new character-that of story-tellers. I have spent the greater part of the night in listening to them, and have heard some of the finest fairy tales, and most romantic legends. But the approach of day put an end to all the romantic disposition of my companions, and left them ill ruffians as before.

We soon wearied of this perpetual ferment, and pet.i.tioned to be put below in the room with the Union men. After some delay it was granted, and then came a more pleasant part of my prison life. The room was large, but dark, and the windows not only secured by crossing bars, but woven over with wires. The refuse tobacco-stems of the manufactory had been thrown in this room, till they covered the floor to a depth of several inches.

But to compensate for these disagreeable accompaniments of our new apartment, it had a stove, and was warm; so that the terrible suffering with the cold, which none can appreciate but those who have endured, was now at an end. There was also good society here-nearly a hundred Union men from different parts of the South-all intensely patriotic, and many of them possessing great intelligence. In talking with these men, and hearing their adventures and opinions, I pa.s.sed many a pleasant hour, and gained a great insight into the views of Southern Unionists.

One of these, who became an intimate friend, was a Scotchman, named Miller. When the war commenced, he was residing in Texas, and witnessed the manner in which that State was precipitated into secession. The first part of the plan was to excite rumors of a contemplated slave insurrection; then the conspirators would place poison and weapons in certain localities, and find them, as if by accident. This was continued till the public mind was in a perfect ferment. The next step was to take some slaves, and whip them until the torture made them confess their own guilt, and also implicate the leading opponents of secession. This was enough. The slaves and Unionists were hung together on the nearest tree, and all opposition to the nefarious schemes brutally crushed. Thus has slavery furnished the means of paving the way to treason!

Miller himself was taken, and after narrowly escaping the fate of his friends, was sent eastward to be tried as a traitor. He twice made his escape, once traveling over two hundred miles, and each time, when captured, telling a different story. Finally, he represented himself as a citizen from New York. When brought before Judge Baxter, the magistrate of Castle Thunder, for examination, he merely said:

"I told you all about my case before."

The judge, who was considerably intoxicated, thought that he had actually been examined before, and dismissed him without further questioning. He was brought up several times after that, but always gave them the same answer, thus keeping them completely deceived, and was at length exchanged.

I here became acquainted with a young man of the Potomac army, whom I shall call Charlie. He was employed to go near Richmond to fire a bridge, and collect important information. While executing his perilous mission, he was captured, with papers in his possession fully proving his character as a spy, and was despatched with a sergeant as escort, toward Richmond. While on the way, the sergeant, who was fond of liquor, got a chance to indulge, and became very careless. Charlie, watching his opportunity, slipped from the breast pocket of his guard the packet of papers containing his charges, with the directions for his disposal, and threw them into a pond by the wayside.

When he arrived at Richmond, the authorities did not know his character, and put him into the large room with the other prisoners, instead of confining him separately. When the evidence against him arrived, the commanding officer entered with a guard, and inquired for him. Now was his last chance for life, and well was it improved! It so happened that a man had died in the prison the night before, and Charlie at once responded:

"O! that fellow died last night," and pointed to the corpse.

"Died, has he! the rascal! We'd 'a hung him this week, and saved him the trouble if he'd only held on!" growled the officer, and departed.

Charlie was shortly after exchanged under the dead man's name!

Just when the discouragement of all lovers of their country was the greatest, resulting from the news of the rise and progress of the peace party in the North, a Tennessee Congressman visited our prison. He gathered the Tennesseeans around him, and urged them to return to their allegiance; stating that the Union cause was now hopeless, as it was abandoned even by the Northern States, which were in the hands of the Democrats, who would make peace on any terms; closing by asking them now to do right, take the oath of allegiance to the Confederacy, and go into its army, promising that all their previous obstinacy should be forgiven. The effect was wonderful! Listen, ye who cavil at the government, and while opposing its policy, still think you do no harm! These were loyal men, and had proved it by abandoning all for the cherished cause-many of them spending weary months in loathsome dungeons. Yet on hearing of the triumph of this faction, which promises to restore the Union by conciliating and wooing back the rebels, over one-half of them yielded, and gave that consent which neither danger nor suffering had been able to force from them! Thus were over twenty recruits from one room of one prison, obtained for the rebel army by the triumphs of Northern Democracy!

A part remained faithful, and this excited the ire of the secessionists. To punish them, Captain Alexander issued an order that all the menial service of the prison should be performed by Union men. Some obeyed the order, while others would not. But those who did the work complained that unwilling ones were not made to help them. To remedy this, a list was prepared, and the names taken in order. One of the first called was a Tennesseean, named McCoy. He answered boldly: