USA > New Hampshire > History of the Twelfth regiment, New Hampshire volunteers in the war of the rebellion > Part 55
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Not a few of us struck passable sort of friendships in our stolen inter-
* See page 252.
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views with the rebs, if that could be called friendship, in which the interested parties stood ready to blaze away at each other on the slightest provocation. For all that, I never could see that euchre or whist, with Johnnies " for " pardners " those pleasant autumn months, was any the less of a game. In fact, it was about all the excitement we had. There is nothing a soldier dreads more than the monotony of camp-life. We were there to whip out the rebellion and get home, and we could n't understand why we were so long about it. We were all of us complain- ing of the hum-drum of the " bottle" when the incidents of my story occurred. All the veteran regiments, except our own. the Twelfth New Hampshire, had been withdrawn from the Port Walthall front to reinforce Grant before Petersburg, and their places supplied by the greenest of all green troops. Pennsylvania regiments high up in the two hundreds. " Johnny reb " knew of the change almost as soon as ourselves, and very soon thereafter arranged the tea party of which I write.
The night of November 17 came still and moonlit. Pickets had been relieved at dusk, and the fresh guard had just settled ourselves for another of the quiet nights we had enjoyed so long, when at ten in the evening, with a preliminary volley that seemed to wake the dead, the rebs charged on the new troops on either flank of the Twelfth boys. They were off like sheep, and the " Johnnies " clos- ing in our rear coolly began to blaze away at us at point-blank range. The game was up, there was no dodging that. for they out-numbered us ten to one, and before we knew it forty-six * of us were .. gobbled " without waiting to hear any objections on our part. Over the rebel breastworks we were hustled and there disarmed ; all overcoats and good hats or boots being especially contraband. By a sheltered path we reached a wood near the Richmond & Petersburg Railroad, where we were told to cut wood and start a fire if we wished. Minus the warm overcoats and blankets of "Uncle Sam," none of us objected to the moderate exercise necessary for a night's supply of fuel, nor to the diversion that was afforded by the labor to our somewhat unsettled thoughts. No amount of vigor- ous swinging of the axe nor cracking of stale jokes seemed to put a very checry glow over the outlook, and it was amusing to notice the sickliness that pervaded every attempt at a smile. Morning came, and after a breakfast of pea soup we were crowded aboard a freight car, and in a short hour found ourselves in Rich- mond. A rabble of boys and hoodlums followed us on our march through the city of a mile or more. The tramp was enlivened with jeers and greetings of the crowd. and off-hand insinuations at the dejected figures we presented. I recall, at this distance, only those whose intimate relations to the subject of rations caused them to make the profoundest impression on our minds. Here is a spec- imen : " Say, Yank, gib yer yo choice, Libby House or Carstle Thunder, boath right smart hotels. I reckon, fare high, 'ropean plan. sah; " or, " Hey, Yank, beant yer hungry? Jis yo waint, sah, bes uf fodder comin', sah." These and other kindly touches compelled us, despite our forlorn circumstances, to put on sickly grins that in their chilliness betokened no small lack of genuiness.
We soon reached our destination, a large two-story brick structure, with the ominous sign at one corner, Libby & Son, Ship Chandlers and Grocers. In the lower room, popularly known as the "reception room " by our boys, we were
* See page 252.
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left for that day and the succeeding night without food, and with only such oppor- tunities for sleep as were afforded by the damp brick floor. Next morning we were ordered to " fall in," strip ourselves, place our clothing on the floor before our feet, and wait our turn at being searched. Money, watches, and pocket- knives were especially contraband, as being possible aids to an attempted escape through bribery of their own soldiers.
It would hardly be respectful to the gentle reader to relate the extremities to which we were put in concealing these obnoxious articles ; it is enough to remind him that though Yankee ingenuity was taxed to its utmost, it was, in most cases, equal to the occasion, despite some temporary inconvenience at one or another part of the body caused by umwonted burdens. Our next move was to the sec- ond story of the building, to which we were conducted by a tall, gaunt Virginian named Pryor. This man in ante-bellum times had been a noted "whip" among the plantation slave-drivers " down ther in Henraker, " and in that appren- ticeship had been well trained for the duties of prison keeper.
Never shall I forget the sight that met our gaze as we entered. Several hun- flred haggard countenanees, in every degree of emaciation, were upturned in answering stare. In the universal filth and squalor it was hard to recognize in the creatures before us comrades once as well fed and cleanly clad as ourselves. The tell-tale blue, that here and there appeared through the dirt, was a silent though convincing witness. Instantly we were surrounded by eager inquirers,-our reg- iment. how we were captured. what Grant was at over there by Petersburg, had we heard any talk about an exchange of prisoners. did we bring a spare hard- tack ; these and hundreds more were the questions we tried to answer. Mean- while a drum had called us into line for breakfast. The meal was served at ten each morning and always consisted of a standard dish -the refuse of Richmond markets-bones, bits of beef, pork, and mutton, indiscriminately mixed, were first boiled in large kettles, cut into bits of three or four ounces each, and served with corn-meal bread, the regulation cut being four inches square and two inches thick. This bread was simple meal and water, without salt, and not unfre- quently was sour on being served. My first piece of meat was a choice morsel of pork-rind, apparently fresh from the sty. and as I was not yet starved to such fodder, I threw it with some spite on the filth of the floor. "Never you dun mind," said Pryor, " you 'Il jes thank me fur its like. fo yer out er thes yer." The scrap was kicked about and trampled for some time unobserved until a drummer boy of sixteen or so. captured by Moseby in the valley the summer before. caught sight of it, and before I could protest had devoured it with all its filth in evident relish. At four in the afternoon the drum called us to the same fare with this variation, that to the water in which the morning's meat had been cooked. were added a few black beans, and more black bugs, and after cooking. a pint of the mixture was doled out to each prisoner.
The ratio of nutritious elements in this soup can best be estimated by the for- mula current among us Yanks for its manufacture. " Two beans and seven gal- lons of water, if too rich add water seasoned with skippers."
With the soup the bread ration, like that of the morning. was served, and this without any variation constituted our supply of food. The day was cheerless enough in our crowded and filthy quarters, but the night was even worse. and would come upon us all too soon. There was small comfort in lying on the
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hard floor, crawling with vermin, while the searching December winds blew unchecked through the casements where once there had been windows. With scanty clothing and no blankets there was nothing for it but to spend half the night in promenading the floor, or lying close packed, " spoon fashion," to utilize what heat we might through contact with our neighbors. It is amusing. even at this late day, to recall the methods in use for relieving our stiffened muscles and aching joints. After a troubled sleep of two hours. someone, whose aches had passed the point of endurance. would sing out, " Yanks. attention ! Company right turn! march !" Woe to the unlucky dreamer who was tardy in his motions ! Worse woe if, in the bewilderment of his first waking, he mistook the direction of his turn! No apologies were accepted, and he was at once com- pelled to sleep by himself until voted into the ranks again by the unanimous consent of all. So passed the weary days, and still more wearing nights. We watched each other grow thinner. and paler, and more haggard. We saw the finer instincts of kindliness and good will die out into the universal selfishness that asserted itself under the guise of self-preservation. We saw, in not a few cases, reason dethroned. We saw some of these madmen, true to the one mastering instinct for food, gather the very vermin that had fattened on their emaciated bodies, and with these eke out their scanty fare. We saw despair with its black midnight taking possession of face after face. We saw the dead, day after day, carted off' to unnamed graves. The only ray of sunshine was when the boys with husky voices sang some of the old camp songs, and " Tenting To-night." or " John Brown's Body."or " Star Spangled Banner " rang out through the dingy halls. Once when we had reached the last verse of " John Brown," a council of war was held to settle the question of completing the song, and hanging .. Jeff Davis to the sour apple tree." It was decided to venture by a unanimous vote, and we were well on our way through the lines, when old Pryor burst into the room with an oath, and cried out. " Now jes be dun with tha' cher, and no mo' of it." and at the same instant the guards outside " blazed away " at the open windows with the evident design of reminding us where we were. No one was hit, however, and we were careful afterwards to omit all reference to the obnox- ious verse.
It would be quite unlikely that men in circumstances like these should fail to discuss. in subdued tones but ever deepening interest. the chances of escape and the means for accomplishing it. One of the men captured with me was Ben Thompson, a native of Wolfeborough, N. H. He was one of the best specimens of the traditional Yankee .- shrewd as a lawyer, keen at trade as a Jew, full of resources, and plucky. He lacked all reverence for dignity or rank, and would always succeed in worming his way into the confidence of officers without appear- ing intrusive.
The following story told at Ben's expense, just before our capture, illustrates his character better than any words of mine. Ben had been detailed for picket duty one day, and scenting a chance to turn an honest shekel, he filled his haver- sack with commissary coffee, and watching his opportunity traded it off during the day with the . Johnnies" for tobacco and papers. Next day Ben was sick. " unfit for service," so the surgeon said, and was missing from sight for some hours. Everybody supposed he was asleep in his tent. Nothing of the sort. With his surgeon's release from duty in his pocket, and his haversack on his
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shoulder, Ben struck for the James, hired a darky to row him across in his dug- out, and turned up late in the forenoon at Dutch Gap canal, then two thirds dug across the narrow tongue of land where Butler was cutting off a seven-mile reach of the river. For two hours Ben drove a thriving trade, and found the troops at work in the canal, hungry for both news and the weed. He was nearly done with his traffic, and had begun to congratulate himself on the generous pile of greenbacks in his possession, when General Butler, with an orderly or two at his heels, made his way on foot into the " big ditch." Thompson failed to see the General until he was close upon him, and knowing that he had been driving a contraband trade, he naturally feared a confiscation of his gains. However, drawing a bunch of choice Havanas from the depths of his haversack, a reserve fund apparently provided for an emergency, he ran up to the General with, "Good morning, General, I've been trying to find you for a week, for I did want you to try some of my fresh cigars, and I hope you 'll do me the honor to accept them with my compliments." Before the General could refuse or accept the proffer, a ten-inch bomb from one of their mortars was dropped by the " Johnnies " in somewhat anxious proximity to the group. Exploding as it buried itself in the ground. it did no further damage than to cover the General and his escort with mud. But Ben, taking advantage of the excitement of the moment, cried out, " Good God, General, if that's the manners you show a kindly disposed person like myself. the sooner I'm out of this the better!" and with the words he ran Jike mad out of the canal. and was soon lost to view around a bend of the river.
Seeing Ben in a brown study one day, a fortnight after we reached Libby, I inquired what he was thinking about. Instead of any direct reply, he asked if I knew anything about shoemaking, and on my replying in the affirmative, he told me of a chance turnkey Pryor had offered him to make shoes for the Confederacy. " And who knows," said he, " but there 'll be a chance for us to skedaddle out of this, if once we get into the shop." Next morning thirty of us were detailed as shoemakers, and found ourselves in a building adjoining the main prison hard at work on shoes for the rebel army. There was a partial division of labor among the gangs that brought the stitching to me and the fitting of the soles to Thompson. Early in our work I noticed Ben went through a curious process of cutting deeply across the outer sole of every shoe, on the reverse side at the front, where shank and heel meet. Of course it ruined the shoe, which would do well if it served the wearer while he was walking away from the quarter- master's. " That's my mark," said Ben, at my inquiry. " Escape valve, you know, for the guilty conscience of a fellow at work aiding and abetting the enemies of his country." Neither of us ever met a " Johnnie " afterwards, but we ached to ask him if he had ever worn any of the patent brand manufactured by the Yanks at Libby.
Across Water street from our shop was a large warehouse used for any overflow of prisoners, but empty at the time we were there, on the second floor of which, in a small room, old Pryor kept a variety store. It was a sort of perquisite to his office of prison keeper, and aided in eking out a scanty salary. Pryor was accus- tomed almost daily to conduct squads of half a dozen prisoners to this store, and sell them bread, pies, apples, and other eatables. His prices were outrageous, fifty cents for an apple, one dollar a loaf for bread, two dollars for an apple-pie
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baked in an ordinary saucer. This process of sale was thought altogether safe. as the warehouse was within the prison enclosure and always surrounded by the line of sentries. When Ben and I had studied the situation and formed our plans for escape, we broached the matter to our fellow-shoemakers and endeav- ored to induce some of them to join us. But the danger of recapture and the terrors of Castle Thunder proved stronger than our arguments. It was fortunate for us that they were so, for we learned by experience that the smaller the number in an escaping party the less likely were the rebs to pursue and retake them. However, nearly the entire shop wrote anonymous letters to their friends, and these we agreed to deliver to the mails within a reasonable time, Ben remarking that if anything happened to that particular penny-post he should bring suit in the court of claims against the Southern Confederacy.
December 12, the day we had chosen for our attempt, was dark and stormy. Holding off as late in the afternoon as we dared. we informed Pryor that we needed something to eat, and with four other comrades who were in our secret were taken over the street to the store. Thompson and I made our purchase first, and then stepping aside, our companions engaged the keeper's attention while we noiselessly crept up a second flight of stairs to the third story. There we were fortunate enough to find an immense pile of condemned tent-cloth, much of it with the stamp of the United States upon it. Working our way deep into the pile. we anxiously waited for any sounds that would indicate we had been missed. Comrades have since told me that Pryor at once inquired for us, but on being assured that we had returned to the shop seemed satisfied and returned the remainder without further questions. Six hours of weary waiting followed, for we had agreed to wait for midnight, as the safest hour for our attempt. Nothing broke the dull monotony of the time save the sleepy ". Post No. 1, all's well ! " of the drowsy sentinels, carried in turn around the prison by each succeeding sentry. Soon after twelve we were astir. Cutting the tent-cloth into long strips we braided a triple strand into a passably strong rope of some thirty feet in length. Fastening one end to a table we had found near by, we dropped the other from a window. It was short by ten feet, but we had no difficulty in dropping that height. Thompson slid down first and I followed. Once at the bottom we found ourselves inside a board fence fifteen feet high, with the smooth side next the prison. Luckily, however, there were lying about the remains of the boards and timbers of which the fence had been built, and having piled these up cob- house fashion. I mounted the pile. and Ben mounted my shoulders. He could just reach the fence top, and being muscular he was over in a twinkling, and had dropped me a piece of the tent-cloth and pulled me to the top. We found ourselves in the back yard of a private dwelling, and working our way toward the street were attacked by a ferocious bull-dog, whose howlings alarmed us even more than his bite. The cur quickly yielded to Ben's suavity and caresses and left us for his mat on the doorstep. In glancing over the front fence we were startled to see a sentry standing with his piece at order arms only a few feet away on the brick sidewalk ! There was nothing for it but to put a bold face on the matter and leap the fence. Hastily agreeing to meet at a neighboring street light, Thompson was first over, and coolly walked away whistling. In ten minutes I followed without the whistle. and shortly rejoined Ben at the appointed place. Just why that .. Johnny " failed to challenge us we never knew. but the proba-
30
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bility is that overcome by drowsiness he was stealing a nap over his gun. As neither of us had more than a general knowledge of the streets, such as we could gain by our first march through them, or by our study from the prison windows. we tramped on with only the vague notion of reaching the suburbs and concealing ourselves until the succeeding night. Now and then we passed a watchman or some belated traveler, but the pieces of tent-cloth we had brought along so completely disguised us that no one asked any questions. An hour's hard tramp- ing found us bewildered, and once more in the heart of the city. Affairs took a serious turn.
We dared not inquire of those we met, nor at the houses, but hurrying on at our best pace found ourselves in another hour climbing the parapets of the third or inner line of works surrounding the city on the north. We saw no troops, as most of the rebels were with Lee guarding the Petersburg front. The ditch in front of the works was deep and half filled with water, but creeping along in the darkness we soon reached a log laid over the chasm for the use of their troops. Over this we were threading our dizzy way, when Ben, who was ahead, slipped and tumbled in. He disappeared for a moment, but soon came up puffing to the surface. I ran along the bank and dropping him my canvas soon fished him out to terra firma. Every rag of clothing on him was saturated, and the bread in his pockets converted into mush. Faint streaks of dawn now showing themselves admonished us to be pushing on, and despite Ben's condition we hurried away for something that looked like woods in the distance. We found the woods a swamp, thick-grown with trees and underbrush. Exhausted and faint, we found a spot somewhat more solid than the rest, where we lay down in the shelter of a large cottonwood tree. After an hour's sleep we both woke shivering and chilled to the very marrow. Ben was the worse off. the result of his morning's ducking. To add to our discomfort a drizzling rain set in, and I was soon as badly off as my companion. We dared not light a fire even if we had had the means ; the most we could venture on was to rise occasionally to our feet, stretch our benumbed and aching limbs, and return quietly to our drenched beds on the ground. Soon after noon the sky cleared somewhat, and sounds of voices began to be heard ; these indicated the presence of a camp on the opposite side of our swamp. Not long after, the men seemed to start a hunt, and some dogs had evi- dently treed an animal. Soon we heard the clip of axes, the tree was felled, and then dogs and men pushed on for the interior of the swamp. Nearer and nearer they drew to our hiding-place. and in a moment I saw the gray squirrel they were after dart into a hollow oak not three rods from us. Three dogs and fifteen or twenty men were close behind. We fugitives instinctively-hugged the sod beneath us. Foiled in the chase, the men gathered sticks and dry grass or bark and started a fire in the hollow butt. The smoke soon forced the squirrel from his retreat. and with a leap he took to the nearest trees; the dog's rushed over in hot chase, but failed to molest us: the men taking a shorter cut avoided us altogether, and in a few moments we knew by their shouts that they had bagged their game and were on their way to camp. It was a narrow chance, and Ben remarked, as we began to recover breath, that if that was a specimen of what we were to encounter the probabilities of our escape were slim. Darkness, our best friend, came at last, and we crept out of our hiding-place as fast as our chilled and stiffened limbs allowed. With the pole star as guide we steered northward,
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in order if possible to cross the Chickahominy and put that stream between us and any pursuers that might be on our track. Carefully avoiding the roads, except when it was necessary to cross them. we tramped on through the weary hours of the night, startled now and then by the snapping of a twig or the move- ment of some animal more frightened than ourselves. At times we were up to the knees in mud and water, and again were climbing steep banks, or working our painful way through thickets and underbrush where we suffered severely from the thorns and briers. Near day dawn we crossed a second and less pretentious line of parapets and were rejoiced to find these, like the last, unoccupied by troops. Soon after, we crept up to the negro quarters of a Virginia plantation and stealthily pushing in the door we entered. At one end of the room was a large fireplace, and stretched on the floor of unbaked clay. in a half-circle, were the dusky forms of half a dozen slaves, with heads turned toward the fire that was now smouldering low on the hearth. After some vigorous shaking we succeeded in rousing the sleepers, and begged for a chance to dry and warm ourselves.
Trusting to the innate sense of justice in the slave, we did not hesitate to confide to them our secret. The story seemed to hasten their endeavors to make us comfortable. The family was soon astir, and the matron quickly mixed corn- meal into a hoe-cake. raked the hot ashes aside, patted the cake into passable shape, and tossing it among the embers soon had it ready for us. " Good Lor', massa, af yer 'd only tole dis yer when yer fuss come, mabbe yer'd done gon an had dis hoe-cake eat up to now," said the kind creature, half apologizing for her tardiness in preparing the meal. Never before was food so sweet; for though a little of Pryor's bread still remained. we had found small opportunity to eat, compared with the comfort of this humble home. The meal over, we talked of shelter near by. and the man of the family. a brawny negro, a plantation hand of the best type, offered to stow us away on a loft of loose boards over the fireplace. W'e slept out the entire day in comparative comfort. On coming down the ladder at nightfall. the good fellow told us that his mistress had spoken of soldiers who had called at the house to inquire for prisoners that were said to have escaped two nights before from Libby. So we knew we were missed and that no stone would be left unturned to retake us.
" Endu'in de wah sah. we's cullered fo'ks s'had mighty hard times, an we's han't dun awishin an aprayn yer Linkum fo'ks cum right soon," said our host as we bade him good-by. We now pushed for the Chickahominy, and crossed it near midnight a few miles west of Mechanicsville, where we leaped the stream without difficulty, it being hardly more than a brook. Once over. we turned southward determined to use the stream as a guide. as we knew it would finally bring us to the James, where we were sure of finding Union troops. As the night wore away we again sought the help of negroes at a plantation cabin. This time. after getting warmed and clothing dried, we were conducted to an open shed, fifty rods or more from the house, where the man of the family stowed us away deep under the cornstalks that filled the shed. Giving us a large hot stove for our feet and piling above us many an armful of the fodder, he bade us keep quiet, and promised to come for us after nightfall.
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