Daring and Suffering Part 13

"I'm not going."

"What's the matter, now?" demanded the sergeant.

"I didn't come here to work; and if you can't board me without, you may send me home," replied the fearless man.

"Well! well! you'll be attended to," growled the sergeant, and proceeded with the roll. Four others likewise refused, and were reported to Captain Alexander, who at once ordered them to be put into "the cell." This was a dark place beside the open court, and only about four feet wide, by six or seven in length. It had no floor but the damp earth, and was dest.i.tute of light. Here they were informed that they should remain until they agreed to work.

We found another alternative for them.-There was a piece of file and a sc.r.a.p of stove-pipe in our room, which we took, and buying a candle from the commissary, watched our opportunity, when taken out to wash, to slip them into the cell. As soon as these necessaries were received, the boys begun faithfully to dig their way out under the wall. All day and night they worked, but did not get through. The next day, we supplied them with another candle, and they labored on. Toward morning, they broke upward through the crust of the ground outside. The foremost one wormed his way out, and glided off. He was never heard from, and no doubt reached the Union lines. The next man was just under the wall, when the barking of a dog, that happened to be prowling around, drew the attention of the guard that way, and prevented his escape. But though the stampede was thus arrested, it was a lesson that prevented the confinement of any more in the cell.

Yet they were not content to give up the idea of making us their servants. I happened to be on the next list prepared. This time the task was to dig in Captain Alexander's garden, which we would have been obliged to perform with an armed guard standing over us.

Of course, we refused to go. As a punishment, we were ordered into the yard, which was only a vacant corner of the building, enclosed by high brick walls, on the top of which guards walked. It was a cold day in February, and was raining. We were nearly naked, having only the remnant of the rags that had already served for more than their time. The bottoms were out of my shoes, and the water stood in the yard several inches deep. The cold, wet wind, swept down with biting sharpness, and almost robbed us of sensation. We paced the narrow bounds, through the mud and water, until too weary to walk any more, and then resigned ourselves to our misery!

Here we remained from early in the morning till in the evening. They told us we would have to stay there till we agreed to work, or froze to death! The first we resolved never to do. The latter was prevented by relief from an unexpected source.

The old commissary, who had been so harsh to us when we first arrived, now went to Captain Alexander, and remonstrated with him for his cruelty.

Said he, "If you want to kill the men, and I know the rascals deserve it, do it at once. Hanging is the best way. But don't keep them there to die by inches, for it will disgrace us all over the world."

This logic produced a good effect, and the order was given to send us back to our room, which, with its warm fire, never seemed more pleasant. It was well they did not keep us out during the night, for we had determined to scale the wall, if we lost half of our number in the attempt.

The effects of that terrible day of freezing were soon visible. On entering the room, the grateful warmth produced a stupor from which most of us awoke, sick. Some died. I, myself, contracted a disease of the lungs, which rendered me an invalid for months after regaining my freedom.

One day we were ordered into line, and the names of all our railroad party, with a few of the others, called over. One, whose name was omitted, asked the reason of the omission. The officer answered:

"We can't tell, for this list came from Yankee land."

The mention of "Yankee land" started conjectures afloat thick and fast. Why should a list be sent from the North? Could it be for the purpose of exchange? The whole prison was in a ferment.

They soon discovered that a general exchange of political prisoners was in contemplation. This added fuel to the flames. But as the truce-boats went off one after another, and week after week pa.s.sed by, leaving us still in our dark and wearisome prison, hope again died away. Every person who ventured to speak of exchange was laughed into silence.

One day an officer came into the room, and ordered a sergeant to take the name of every man who claimed United States protection, in order to obtain clothes for him. Soon the clothing came. It did not comprise a complete suit, but was extremely welcome. Never did I see a peac.o.c.k strut with more ostentation than did some of the prisoners on donning the uniform. And it was worthy of pride. It was a token that we were not forsaken, but that a great nation was extending its protection over us. The ragged guards around, clad in their miserable b.u.t.ternut suits, growled many uncomplimentary allusions to the penuriousness of their own government, in contrast with the munificence of ours.

There were only about one hundred parts of suits distributed, though the papers, the next day, stated the number at five hundred! and this I afterward found was actually the number sent from Washington. The entire four hundred, and part of the last hundred, was kept by the officers as a compensation for their trouble in distributing them! But they certainly acted with more than their ordinary honesty in giving us any at all!

On the evening of the 17th of March, when we were sitting around the fire, lazily, but not indifferently, discussing the siege of Vicksburg, and laying many infallible plans by which it might be at once reduced, an officer entered, and gave the strange order for all "who wanted to go to the United States to come to the office!"

When I obeyed, it was with very little hope that there was really a chance once more to stand beneath the folds of our loved banner. Even when part of our room-mates had gone in, and signed the oath of parole, I feared that the good news was only for them. To test the matter, I went forward, and as I gave my name, fully expected to hear-"The engine-thieves can't go"-but no objection was made. For a moment a delicious hope thrilled through my veins-a vision of happiness and home, dazzling as a flash of summer lightning, shone before my eyes-but it instantly faded before the remembrance of our Atlanta deception.

It was announced that we were to start at four o'clock the next morning. The evening, as might be expected, was one of wild excitement. Nearly all acted like men bereft of reason. Their joyousness found vent in vociferous cheers-in dancing and bounding over the floor-in embracing each other, and pledging kind remembrances. But there were a few who were not permitted to go, and I pitied them. I remembered when we had been left by our comrades on our first arrival in Richmond, and my heart bled for these forsaken ones, as they sat cheerless and alone, seeming to feel even more wretched than ever, amid the general joy.

It was near midnight before we became calm enough to offer up our usual evening devotions. But when all were at length still, wearied out by the very excess of joy, and when the quietness that ever follows overwhelming emotions had settled down upon us, we knelt in prayer-a prayer of deep, strong, fervent thankfulness; and we implored that we might not be deceived in our bright and vivid hopes, and dashed back from our antic.i.p.ated paradise; yet if such should be His high and mysterious will, and we should see these hopes fade, as others faded before them, we asked for strength to bear the trial. Thus composed, we laid down to sleep, and await the event.

Few eyes closed during the entire night. Fancy was too busy peopling her fairy landscapes-picturing the groups that awaited us beyond that boundary which, for nearly a year, frowned before us, gloomy and impa.s.sable as the silent river of death! But even as we muse, what unbidden fears spring up to darken the prospect, and stain the brightness of our joy! How many of those friends whose love was as our life, may be no more! For a year, not a whisper had been heard, and we trembled as we thought of the ravages of time and of battle. These and other thoughts whirled through our throbbing brains during that ever-memorable night, and were only broken by the summons of the commanding officer, who, long ere morning light, gave the thrilling order to-prepare for our journey!

Hurriedly we thronged to our feet. It was true! Freedom once more! Our terrible captivity was pa.s.sed! O joy! JOY!-almost too wild and delirious for earth!

There was a hurrying around in the darkness illumined by the flashing of torch-lights-a discordant calling of names-a careful inspection to see that none went but those allowed; then, forming two lines in the courtyard, and with bounding hearts, we pa.s.sed outward through the dreaded portals of Castle Thunder-the same portals we had pa.s.sed inward more than three months before! pa.s.sed out into the cool, but free night air!

We next marched through the muddy, unlighted streets for many squares. There were with us a number of sick, who were not willing to be left behind; and as the rebels refused to provide conveyances, we helped them-encircling them in our arms, and supporting their tottering steps during the weary distance. Some had to be carried altogether, but the burden was light, upborne, as we were, on the wings of hope and exultation.

After we were seated in the cars, we found in some Richmond papers the intelligence that "a large number of engine-thieves, bridge-burners, murderers, robbers, and traitors will leave this morning for the United States," also congratulating themselves on the riddance. Our congratulations were not less fervid!

We glided slowly along, pa.s.sing fortifications and rifle-pits, till we arrived at Petersburg; then onward to City Point, the place of general exchange. Here, for the first time in eleven months, we saw the "flag of the free," floating in proud beauty from the truce-boat "State of Maine." It was a glad sight! Her undulating stars were fairer to us than the brightest constellations that ever sparkled in the azure fields above.

The grossest frauds are often practised by the unscrupulous secessionists in these exchanges. I will give a case that occurred at this time.

A rebel soldier was wounded in the head at the first battle of Mana.s.sas. It affected his brain, and disordered his intellect, so that even after he had recovered physically, he was mentally unable to perform the duties of a soldier. He was confined a short time in Castle Thunder, and then sent to Camp Lee, to try him again. But he was no better than before, and they gave up the attempt in despair. Then they exchanged him to us, and got a sound man in his place!

When the boat rounded out from the sh.o.r.e on its homeward way, our joy knew no bounds. It seemed as if we had awakened from a hideous nightmare dream to find that all its shapes of horror and grinning fiends had pa.s.sed away, and left us standing in the free sunlight once more. Our hearts beat glad music to the thresh of the wheels on the water, knowing that each ponderous stroke was placing a greater distance between us and our hated enemies.

Then, too, the happy welcome with which we were greeted; and the good cheer, so different from our miserable prison fare, and the kind faces, smiling all around, showed in living colors that we were freemen again.

Down the river we went, pa.s.sing the historic ground of the James, as in a delirious dream of rapture! We were scarcely conscious of pa.s.sing events. No emotion on earth has the same sweep and intensity as the wild, throbbing sensations that rush thick and fast through the bosom of the liberated captive!

On we went-reached the gunboats that ply up and down the river, like giant sentinels, guarding the avenue to rebellion-reached the river's mouth, pa.s.sed onward up the bay to Washington! As we came in sight, we thronged tumultuously to the vessel's side, and bent eager, loving eyes on the snowy marble front, and white towering steeple of our nation's Capitol.

On our arrival, we were requested by the Secretary of War to give our depositions before Hon. Joseph Holt, Judge Advocate General, that the world at large might know on the surest foundation the truth of our narrative. We were received by the Judge himself, and Major-General Hitchc.o.c.k, who was present, with the most marked cordiality. This interview was merely a friendly one, and was pa.s.sed in familiar conversation.

On our second visit, we found a justice of the peace in waiting to administer the necessary oath, and also a phonographer to write our testimony. We were examined separately, and the result published officially in the Army and Naval Gazette, and also in most of the newspapers of the day.

We then called on the Secretary of War, accompanied by our kind friends, Major-General Hitchc.o.c.k and J. C. Wetmore, Ohio State Agent. Generals Sigel and Stahl, with many other distinguished personages, were in waiting, but we were given the preference, and at once admitted.

The Secretary conversed with us most affably for some time. Then going into another room, he brought out six medals, (see engraving-all are similar,) and presented them to us, saying that they were the first ever given to private soldiers. Jacob Parrott, the boy who endured the terrible beating, received, as he well deserved, the first one.

He next presented us with one hundred dollars each, and ordered all arrearages to be paid, and the money and the value of the arms taken from us to be refunded.

This was not all. He requested Governor Todd to promote each of us to first lieutenants in the Ohio troops; and, if he failed to do so, promised to give us that grade in the regular army. We then received furloughs to visit our homes, and left his presence profoundly convinced that "republics are" not always "ungrateful."

We were then escorted by our friends to the Executive mansion, and had a most pleasing interview with our n.o.ble President. His kindness was equal to that of the Secretary. After relating to him some incidents of prison experience, and receiving his sympathizing comments, we took our leave.

And now-safe in a land of freedom-with the consciousness of having performed our duty-surrounded by fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, wives and children, who had long mourned us as dead-our dangers past, and our sufferings rewarded-I drop the vail.

The End.

Footnotes

[1] One of these I noticed only very lately.

[2] The description of places and distances given in the preceding chapter, was mostly obtained from Confederates, who afterward visited and talked with us.

[3] The rebels thought he was counterfeiting blindness, but I believe it was real.

[4] A refugee from the State of Georgia, now in this city, who witnessed the execution, but, from peculiar circ.u.mstances, does not make his name public, corroborates this statement, and adds, that these brave men were surrounded by three or four hundred guerillas and partisan rangers, as they called themselves, who disputed for the honor of being the executioners. The matter was settled by the party taking a vote, when twelve were selected as the favored ones. The rebel soldiers who perpetrated this outrageous murder, spent the rest of the day in spreeing and jollification, many of them writing to their friends at home an account of the pleasure they felt in a.s.sisting in the hanging of "seven blue-bellies," as they termed the Union soldiers.-Note from a Pamphlet ent.i.tled "Ohio Boys in Dixie," published in New York in April, 1863.

[5] In one of these papers I noticed a description of two Federal officers who had escaped from Macon, Georgia. It was Captain Geer, with whom I have lectured in several places since my return, and his comrade, Lieutenant Collins. Their adventures are recorded in a book called "Beyond the Lines."

[6] All our friends at home believed we were executed. My obituary notice was published in our county paper, and the Rev. Alexander Clark was invited to preach my funeral sermon, which providential circ.u.mstances alone prevented.