USA > Ohio > In the 50th Ohio serving Uncle Sam : memoirs of one who wore the blue > Part 15
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and ammunition at the arsenal there, also horses ; cross to the east side of the river on a ferry boat, and march to the Union lines at Pensacola, Florida, one hundred and fifty miles away.
If my memory serves me rightly, I think it was just before daylight, January 20th, 1865, the attempt was made to carry out this plan, but very few of the prisoners, perhaps twenty or twenty- five, knew anything about the contemplated outbreak.
So, like myself, when they were awakened by the slight con- fusion that was made by disarming the inner guard, they did not understand the matter.
The first words that I heard as I awoke was: "Damn you, steal another blanket, will you?" This was said by some of our men quite loud, so that the outside guards would think that the confusion was caused by the prisoners stealing from each other, and I heard one of the outside guards say : "Them d-m Yankees are stealing blankets from one another again."
I raised up, and saw some of our men with guns on their shoulders. I then began to realize that there was trouble in the air. and just then a voice called out loudly : "Fall in, one hundred men, quickly, to charge the outer gate !"
All was now confusion. I could hear the drums beating the long roll in the Confederate camps on the outside, while the leaders of the insurrection were calling for a hundred men to fall in. Other voices were calling just as loudly for all to lie down and keep quiet.
The consequence was that Captain Hanchett's grand plan to liberate the Cahaba prisoners was a failure. I understood at the time that they succeeded in disarming all the inner guards except one of those at the door ; he made his escape, and it was he gave the alarm outside. Our men held the guard prisoners in the water closet. There was more or less confusion until just about daylight.
Colonel Jones plucked up courage to rush in his guards and one piece of artillery, and demanded that the guards and guns be surrendered within three minutes, or he would blow us all to h-1.
In the meantime we were all crowded back in the south end of the building like a flock of sheep or hogs.
As there was a little delay in surrendering, Colonel Jones brought his guns to a ready, and his men had their fingers on their triggers, waiting the word to fire. But fortunately for us, the guards and guns were all returned at that moment, and Jones gave the order, "Recover arms," instead of "Fire."
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General Henderson stated to me also that Colonel Jones had the two pieces of artillery loaded with canister that stood on the outside that morning, and was about to open fire on the prison, when he and a Confederate Lieutenant stepped in front of the. pieces and told him not to fire, if he did he would kill them, and the Lieutenant called to the prisoners to bring out the captured guns, and also the guards, if they were alive. A prisoner an- swered him that the guards were unhurt, and were coming out as fast as they could through the crowd, and that the guns were also being brought out.
Finally, having got their guards and guns, Colonel Jones, with a great deal of bluster withdrew his men, closed the door and bolted it.
Reader, I will have to confess that my much-boasted courage and nerve deserted me for a short time that morning, especially at the moment those muskets were pointed at my head at the short range of ten feet.
I am pretty sure had those men got the command, "Fire!" this little story would never have been written by me.
In a short while the guards were brought in again, and we were all counted to see if any of us had got away during the night. Finding us all there, they then made a demand for us to give up the ring-leaders of the plot, and Colonel Jones said that not a d-n bite would we get to eat until we did.
One of the guard told that he wounded one of the prisoners when they disarmed him, so then the prisoners were all ordered to strip to the skin and pass between two inspectors, holding our clothes above our heads that they might find the wounded man. One man was wounded slightly in the hand, but he passed through without being detected.
Then we were all passed through the lines again in the presence of the disarmed guard to see if they could identify any of those that disarmed them.
Two or three were identified and taken outside, and finally on the second day after the insurrection someone turned traitor and gave Captain Hanchett away, and he and his brave associates were taken out and placed in the dungeon.
On the third day after the attempted outbreak rations were issued to us again, and soon we all settled down to the same monotonous routine as before. I think it is just as well that the: insurrection stopped where it did.
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." If we had succeeded in getting outside, there would have been numbers of us killed, and then it would have been impossible for us to have gotten away, for just at that time, General Henderson tells me, there were rumors that the Union General Wilson was threatening Selma and Cahaba with his cavalry, and that the Con- federates had sent heavy reinforcements to Selma, and of course they would have gobbled us all again, or killed us all.
I do not think it likely that Captain Hanchett was aware of this reinforcement, so had we escaped from the prison he would have marched us right into their hands again.
Poor, brave Captain Hanchett! It is said by those that knew him that when he saw his plan had failed that morning he cried like a child.
I think it would have been the better plan for him to have had a hundred men sworn to follow his lead, but I suppose he was afraid to let too many into his secret, for fear some of them would turn traitor and inform on him.
· I have never been able to find out to a certainty his fate, but from the best information I can get, he was kept in the dungeon until we were all exchanged the following March, and then Colonel Jones took him out and put him in charge of two of his kindred spirits, and started toward Selma, with instructions to find some excuse to put him out of the way before they reached there, which they did before getting very far from Cahaba, and I think it more than likely that this is true, as Colonel Jones was just the kind of a man for that kind of dirty work.
General Henderson inquired of me if I knew what became of Hanchett, as he said he did not exchange him at Vicksburg while he was there, for he said he would have known him if he had.
If Colonel Jones had been such a man as Dr. Howard Hender- son, we prisoners would have received better treatment. Jones deserved the same fate as Wirz of Andersonville fame did, but escaped it by sneaking out of the United States in disguise, but I am told he stole back in after years and located in New Orleans.
I was told that a Mrs. Gardiner, who lived near the prison, performed many acts of kindness, by passing through a hole in the stockade books and vegetables, but it was not my good fortune to learn of this in time to make use of the noble lady's charity.
There was also a Miss Marks, who was a kind nurse to the sick men outside in the hospitals. God will surely reward them for their unselfish kindness in those dark days. I trust I shall some day meet them in the sweet bye-and-bye.
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After the insurrection our condition grew worse. Our guards were more strict, and the long dreary days and nights passed slowly by.
During the month of February it rained almost daily. The rebels told us that all the lowlands were flooded. Of course those heavy cold rains increased our suffering. Many got discouraged, sickened, and many died. No bright ray of hope penetrated through the dark clouds. Had our government abandoned us to our fate ?
It began to look that way to us poor devils shut up in that filthy, lousy den, as we could not learn what was transpiring in the outside world.
I think it was about the last night in February. I was lying asleep with the rest of my messmates, and gradually my mind drifted off into the land of dreams. I was in my old bedroom at my brother's, near College Hill, Ohio, looking out of the window over Mr. Gray's peach orchard. The trees had the same beautiful green uniform tops that I had admired so much when I labored among them.
As I feasted my eyes on the delightful scene it slowly faded away and, presto, change! I am standing with my arms resting on the garden fence. There had been a gentle shower of rain, which made the young vegetables show their tiny heads from one end of the garden to the other, in their neat, straight rows.
No doubt my readers have times without number enjoyed look- ing at their own gardens just after a nice shower, when they had the same appearance as this garden had to me in my dream, and they can imagine how delighted I was with the pretty scene, it seemed sc real to me, but, alas, I was rudely awakened to find I was still a prisoner in old Castle Morgan, and worse yet, my feet were just about to be engulfed by the muddy waters of the Alabama River, which had slyly crept into the prison whilst we slept.
Of course, as I was the longest man among my bed-fellows, it reached me first, and now the water kept rising until it covered the entire inside of our prison from two to three feet. This indeed seemed to add the cap sheaf to our misery.
No rest for any of us now ; only those who were lucky enough to be in possession of a bunk. It was simply stand or wade around in the muddy waters. Like Noah's weary dove, there was no place for us to rest our feet.
Talk about the suffering in Andersonville, Saulsbury Castle, Thunder and Libbey. Could it have been any more cruel than
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this? Some of our Sergeants had a talk with Colonel Jones, and pleaded with him to let the men march out upon dry land, but that heartless wretch answered: "No. Not as long as there is a d-n Yankee's head above water can you come out of that stockade."
Finally they shipped us a lot of cord-wood, with which plat- forms were built, on which we could climb and keep out of the water to some extent. There was no chance, of course, to cook our scant rations, so we ate them raw, washing them down with the filthy water that surrounded us.
They did send us in a few hardtacks that looked as though they were made out of bean meal, and they were as hard almost as flint rock.
I related my dream to my messmates, and told them that I believed this dream was a good omen, and so they all decided that it was a token of our speedy release.
As for myself, notwithstanding our gloomy surroundings, after this dream I felt encouraged, and thought I could discern a break in the dark clouds that so long had hidden us from the out- side world.
Whether this was true or not, just about this time a notice was tacked up in our prison which said: "The latest dispatch from War Department" was that there was to be a general exchange of prisoners, man for man.
Oh! how the poor boys did yell and hollow when they read that note! Some thought the news was too good to be true, and others said the rebels only wanted to encourage us, and keep us from trying to make another break for liberty.
In a few days the water began to draw out of the prison, leav- ing some high points dry, on one of which Andrew Pouder, my bunkmate, and I made a fire out of some of the wood that had been brought in, and were sitting by it, warming ourselves. All at once the gates were opened, and a call was made for a boatload of prisoners to fall in for exchange.
At once Pouder and I fell into ranks, side by side, but being quite a distance from the gate, we were pretty well in the rear. The men kept passing out, and Pouder and I kept nearing the gate, and finally Pouder passed out and the gate was closed, shutting me in and Pouder out. I shall never forget the look that Pouder gave me as he saw the gate close between us, but he marched away, while I went back to the fire and sat down, feeling very lonely and desolate.
I sat there brooding over my bad luck for quite a while, when
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I heard the gate open again and, looking up, I saw Pouder and several others turned back into the prison. They had passed out more than they wanted.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Water Recedes-We Roast a Few Graybacks-And Bid Farewell to Cahaba.
There is an old saying that misery loves company, and it was true in my case. While there were plenty of comrades there, yet Pouder and I had been messmates all along, and a warm- attach- ment had sprung up between us, which bound us together like brothers, and while no doubt he was sorry to be turned back into that miserable den, and I shared this feeling with him to some extent, yet deep down within my heart I felt glad (God forgive me) to see him re-enter the gate and know we were still to have each other's companionship, let it be for weal or woe.
Pouder and I were now fortunate enough to get a good, dry bunk to sleep on, and we used it most of the day, passing the hours reading the New Testament, for I had a copy of the Scriptures during all my imprisonment, and read it over a number of times and found much comfort in it.
Finally the water gradually withdrew from the prison, and we could once more walk about without wading. It had performed one good act for us while it was there-it had drowned all the graybacks that it reached, and I know there must have been billions of them.
Pouder and I took off our old ragged clothes, a garment at a time, and held them over the fire until we roasted all the graybacks on them, and they would drop off into the fire, swell up and burst with a noise that would almost equal the popping of firecrackers, and the heat of the fire killed all the knits, so that we were entirely rid of the little pests, and could lay down now in our bunk at night and sleep peacefully.
And oh! what a sweet revenge it was to us to see those old graybacks that had been feasting for the last few months on our rich Yankee blood drop into the fire, burst and go up in smoke: We felt now we were even with one set of our enemies at least, but all earthly things, good or bad, must end some time.
-.. So on the morning of March 13, 1865, we were told our stay in
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old Cahaba prison was ended. The gates were thrown open and we all marched out and formed in two ranks in front of the prison, and Colonel Jones made us a short speech, winding up by saying he hoped he would never see our faces back there again.
Jack Culp spoke up and said: "Colonel, we are tame Yanks now, but if we ever come back, we will be wild," but the Colonel did not see fit to make any reply to this thrust. And we were marched aboard a boat, and bidding a final good-bye to Cahaba, we were soon on our way, steaming up the river towards Selma ..
No one but those that experienced it can tell with what thank- ful hearts we caught the last glimpse of the gloomy walls of old Cahaba, as we rounded a bend in the river a mile or so above it.
A fervent "Thank God" no doubt arose to the lips of many, who took that last look at that Hell on earth. Never while I live and keep my right mind can I forget the awful horrors of that deri of misery.
In due time we arrived at Selma without accident and dis- embarked, and were marched into a stockade, to await transporta- tion by rail. Next morning we were all rushed to the railroad station, with the understanding that a train would be there to take us on our way, but it turned out to be a mistake, so we were returned to the stockade.
On this little trip to the railroad and back my comrade Pouder and I had the good fortune to find two large plugs of tobacco, which we cut up into small pieces and traded the comrades for meal and meat, and by so doing we got a supply that lasted us until we reached the Union lines at the big, black river, besides keeping enough tobacco to do us through also, which was quite an item to us.
I suppose some of the guards lost the tobacco, or maybe some of our comrades. We heard no inquiries made about it.
It was here that the three-quart bucket was made to do duty, as Pouder and I made mush in it, and as we had plenty of meal we did not stint ourselves, you may be sure, but ate about all our stomachs would hold.
I am not positive, but I think we had to remain in Selma two nights. We were then put aboard a train and shipped to Jackson, Mississippi. I do not remember what route we went by, or what towns we passed through, but I think we passed one night in Meridian stockade. However, that does not matter.
We finally arrived at Jackson, and that was as far as the rail- road was in running order. Here I spent my last Confederate
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money, paying five dollars to an old colored "Auntie" for a chicken pie, and Pouder and I ate it and pronounced it the best chicken pie we ever ate. It certainly was more toothsome than cornbread made from meal that had been ground, cob and all, and sometimes a little musty at that.
Some of us drew a few new clothes at Jackson that had been forwarded by the government that far for our use. All that I remember of getting was a pair of socks. Or I may have gotten a cap, as I remember of losing my head covering somewhere· on the trip, and I do not remember how I did manage until I got to parole camp.
From Jackson to the big, black river we had to foot it, and as the distance was forty miles, it took us two days to make the trip. The first day the weather was nice; the roads were in good condi- tion, and we got along fine, making very good time for men in our condition. I assure you we had no surplus flesh to carry. The second day it set in to rain, and soon the roads became muddy and slippery, and our old, ragged clothing became thoroughly wet through, and this made it everything else but pleasant for us.
My old shoes were so worn that they became an incumbrance to me, so I cast them aside and marched in my sock feet.
I had said to Comrade Pouder that second morning that if any of us reached the big, black river that night, that I was going to be one among them, so I waded along through the mud, trying hard to keep up my courage, though I must say the rain rather dampened it, and the muddy roads clogged it, but freedom was on the other side of the big Black.
So I took a fresh chew of tobacco and forged ahead. Ah! here comes one of our escort, riding back from the front. What can he want back here? Listen, he is speaking :
"Gentlemen," he says, "it's the commanding officer's wishes that you keep well closed up, if you please, as he does not wish any straggling."
Well, what do you think of that? He calls us gentlemen! Really, that almost took my breath away.
We must be nearing God's country, and this cavalryman already is beginning to be influenced by it, but come to think of it, he made no mistake in calling us gentlemen, for we were a very gentle crowd just then.
I think it is very likely that there were men on this trip that gave out, but as I was pretty well toward the front, I do not know what was taking place in the rear. I do not know who our escort
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was or what the officer's name was that was in command, but from what I saw and heard, all the prisoners were treated humanely on this trip.
When we drew rations and started, some of the boys asked the commander how long those rations were to do us, and he answered : "Until we reach some place where I can draw more," and he kept his word. Wherever he could draw rations, he did so. By this . means we fared very well on the trip; better, I think, than we would had Jones brought us through.
It continued to rain until our advance reached the river about sundown. I had made my word good-I was there among them, though my limbs were so stiff and sore I could barely lift my feet clear of the ground, and I had to move them with a kind of sliding motion.
Comrade Pouder was also among the lucky numbers to arrive there in the advance. Yes, we had reached the Rubicon, but it was so late in the evening those in charge of affairs there desired us to wait till morning before allowing us to cross over.
They wished us to go back about a quarter of a mile and camp for the night. This did not please us prisoners a little bit, and it took some strong arguments by both Yankees and rebels to per- suade us to turn back, but our officers promised to send us over rations that night.
So finally we reluctantly turned back, and went into camp in an old deadening, where there was an abundance of wood. Pouder and I took possession of a huge log heap, and waiting until nearly all had got their fires going before kindling ours, then we had a glorious fire all to ourselves.
The rain having now ceased, we soon had our old rags nice and dry, and taking our good friend, the three-quart bucket, we hunted up some water and soon had it full of steaming hot mush.
I think if I mistake not that Comrade Pouder and I got on the outside of six quarts of mush that night ; then, spreading out our old rags, we lay our tired bodies down to rest.
Directly after lying down we heard our fellows calling, "Come and get your rations," but as our stomachs were already full of mush we closed our eyes and were soon in the land of dreams.
The next morning we awoke feeling very much refreshed. The sky was cloudless and the beautiful sun arose bright and warm. Pouder and I arose with it, and bringing forth our three-quart bucket, we soon had our breakfast mush cooked, and, sitting down, we partook of our last meal under the Stars and Bars-none too
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soon, either, as our meal had begun to get musty from getting damp the day before.
Breakfast eaten, we fell into ranks, and once more made our way to the river, where the officers were soon busy calling the roll, and. as fast as we answered to our names, we passed over the pontoon bridge to freedom, into God's country, under the bright folds of Old Glory, where we yelled and shouted ourselves hoarse with thankfulness and joy.
We were halted here a short while to await a train from Vicks- burg, which soon appeared, and we were hustled aboard and taken to parole camp four miles back of Vicksburg, where we arrived March 21st, 1865.
On the train that brought us here were some colored soldiers as train guards, and as they were the first colored soldiers I had ever seen. they were quite a curiosity to me, and interested me very much.
At the camp we found others. They were dressed neatly, wore white gloves, and took great pride in their various duties.
Here we were organized into companies and battalions, and the companies were divided into messes of ten.
Comrade Pouder and I were assigned to Company "C," 3rd Battalion.
We drew tents, blankets, clothing and a full supply of rations. At first some heartless commissary, thinking we were so near starved we would eat any old thing, issued us some stale, wormy hardtack, but we soon gave them to understand that that kind of business had to be cut out at once, and after that our rations were all right. The hardtack we got was equal to soda crackers.
Sergeants had charge of battalions and Corporals had charge of companies and messes: I had charge of one mess that was sup- posed to contain ten men, but in reality there were only eight at the beginning and one of these was taken sick and sent to the hos- pital, but still they gave me rations for ten men. So my mess fared sumptuously every day.
We had no duty to perform but to keep ourselves and quarters neat and clean, and cook and eat, so we soon began to fill out and look like men once more.
And here I wish to say that while we were on the way here from prison we met quite a large number of Confederates who had been exchanged, and were on the way home. There was a remark- able contrast between us.
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We were lean, ragged and dirty and carried a little old corn- meal, tied up perhaps in a little old dirty rag, while they looked well fed, were clean and comfortably clothed ; had haversacks that were well filled with crackers, coffee, sugar and meat. This I will vouch for, as some of them kindly shared their rations with us.
The next day after arriving at parole camp, I sent the fol- lowing Jetter to my people at home:
"Parole Camp in rear of Vicksburg, Mississippi, "March 22nd, 1865.
"Dear Parents, Brothers and Sisters :
"It is with feelings of deep gratitude I seat myself this beau- tiful day to inform you of my present whereabouts, and also of my good health, although for the past few months I have had some of the roughest experiences that I ever had. But thanks be to God for His mercy, who has graciously spared my life through many dangers that were seen, as well perhaps from many that were not seen, by His poor,' unprofitable servant.
"Yes, I have passed safely through many dangers, privations and hardships, and was brought through the rough lines yester- day at the Big Black River, and am at present pleasantly situated in parole camp, four miles in rear of Vicksburg, Mississippi.
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