Chapter XXII: Prison Life and Prison Fare

Eleven naval officers gave us a most cordial reception when the captain in charge of the prison introduced us as fresh fish. All were eager to learn the latest news of the war, and especially about the prospects of exchanging prisoners of war in the near future. Now it happened that we were well posted on the "exchange" question--namely, that the authorities at Washington had notified the rebels that the cartel was ended, and no more exchanges would be made. Our men, when received, were disabled from duty on account of sickness caused by lack of proper food and clothing, as well as inhuman treatment. On the other hand, the rebels were returned in better health and more comfortably clothed than at the time of capture. The advantage to the rebel army, under the circumstances, would be too great to permit of any further exchanges. It was policy to let the Union men remain as prisoners, as they would be useless for a long time for active duty. Keeping the rebels in prison would deprive the rebel army of a large number of able men, who, released, would be immediately available for active duty.

Our fellow-prisoners were down-hearted at first, when told the dictum; but soon their cheerful remarks showed that they believed our Government was pursuing a wise course under the circumstances. The jail was a three-story building, the two lower floors being used exclusively for the confinement of debtors. The third story was fitted up with cells for the criminals. At that time there was no State prison in South Carolina. The longest sentence a prisoner could receive was two and one half years in jail. Murder, robbery, burglary, arson, and rape were punishable by death. A man whose punishment was commuted from death could only be confined for the maximum jail sentence. We fourteen naval officers were confined in one room on the first floor. The size of the apartment was sixteen by twenty feet. When we lay on the floor at night there was but little vacant space. Sixteen army officers were confined in a room on the other side of the main hall. One half-hour in the morning and in the afternoon was allowed us to go into the yard, in order to wash and attend to our toilet, and only four were permitted to go at one time. For that reason we had to be in a hurry, so as to give all an opportunity. When the half-hour had expired, we were counted and the door locked. The army officers were then let out for the same length of time. We received our rations every ten days, in an uncooked condition. Unbolted corn-meal was the staple food. Two ounces of old, mouldy bacon was allowed each person for the ten days, that being the only animal food we received. Sometimes a small quantity of rice was also allowed. In the yard was a small brick building used as a kitchen, where the cooking was done. Opposite, and extending the whole length of the yard, was an old wooden barracks in which were confined about sixty privates. One private was detailed for the navy and one for the army officers. Not much skill was required for the cooking, but considerable ingenuity was needed to devise ways and means. In our mess the officers had managed to get a table, two long benches, ten pie-plates, and some knives and forks. Two meals a day was all that our rations would stand. This was our regular menu for about nine months for every meal: Corn-meal, slapjacks, corn-bread, corn-meal gravy, and corn-meal coffee. Our bacon was used for making the gravy and greasing the old tin pan which we utilized as a griddle. Corn-meal was burned nearly black for making the coffee. At one time our rations missed connections for nearly two days, and there was woe and agony. We divided the time about equally in damning the Confederacy and praying for something to eat. There were two iron-barred windows in our room which overlooked the yard of our next-door neighbour. A man, wife, and little boy lived there. A passage way about twelve feet wide separated the jail and a one-story cottage. One of our windows was exactly opposite their bedroom window, but both too high from the ground for the rebel sentry on guard in the passage way to see into either of them. Our neighbour's name was Crane. The family were strong Unionists, and we carried on a daily conversation by slate-writing. All the latest news was given to us, as well as any information which we desired.

Mr. Crane was a young man about thirty years of age, and he had a special permit from the rebel government exempting him from military service, on account of being a wagon-maker and needed by the citizens in Columbia to do their work. A girl about eighteen years old finally came to reside with the family. We immediately christened her "Union Mary," and kept that girl busy receiving and throwing kisses at us. She seemed to have nothing else to do but to watch our window. As we had plenty of leisure time, some one of the party was continually making distant love to her. At last she let us know that she wanted to go North and live with the Yankees. Nearly all of us wrote a letter telling her how to get a pass through the lines and recommending her to our relatives. She succeeded all right. The father of one of the officers got her a good situation and gave her a fine start in life, out of gratitude for the news which she brought him from his son.

A few weeks afterward Mr. Crane was ordered to report for military duty at Richmond. He and several companions got off the cars at the nearest point to our lines and were successful in getting through. The next we heard of him was through his wife, who said that he had reached New York city and was earning very high wages at his trade.

A company of home guards, composed of fifty men under command of a captain, first, second, and third lieutenants, were our guardian angels. The guard-room adjoined ours on the first floor. Their camp was outside the city limits. Every morning, at eight o'clock, the relief would come in and remain on duty for twenty-four hours. We became well acquainted with all, and were quite sociable. Three of the privates let us know that they were Union sympathizers. Many a favour they did for us, by assisting us to communicate with Union people in the city. In the month of March, 1864, all hopes of being exchanged before the ending of the war were given up. Every one of us was in favour of making an attempt to escape from prison, if possible. Lieutenant Preston and myself were to do the engineering part; the others agreed to work under our instructions. Preston was a regular officer, and myself being a volunteer removed any cause for believing that any favouritism would be shown during the progress of building a tunnel. After eight in the evening the guards never opened our door. Then we commenced operations.

A large brick fire-place was situated between the two windows. The bricks on one end were taken up and a hole was made that allowed us to get under the floor. Preston and myself worked nearly all night. First, we stopped up several ventilating holes with pieces of clay and brick. All the brickbats were piled in a corner to be out of our way. We found there would be plenty of space to pile up the dirt that would be taken from the tunnel, the height of the floor from the ground being about three feet. Directly under the window facing Crane's house we started a shaft three feet square. The dirt, as we removed it, was piled over the ventilating hole; there being no danger of any noise being heard by the sentry in the alley or a light seen, we ceased operations for the night. The bricks in the fire-place were replaced, and we retired for the night to our luxurious couches--the bare floor--for much-needed rest. The entrance to our lower regions must be attended to first, as the bricks had a very insecure foundation. One of the guards very kindly consented to carry our compliments and a request to Mrs. Crane for the loan of a saw, hammer, nails, and a piece of board, as we wished to make a shelf. During the afternoon we had everything in readiness. The bricks were removed and put in a soap box, cleats were hastily nailed to the floor timbers, pieces of board laid across, and the bricks replaced. Ashes were then filled into the cracks. It was a first-class job when finished, and we could defy detection. One of us went into the kitchen in the yard and stole our own poker from the cook. It was a piece of flat iron, and the only instrument procurable for excavating purposes. The officers were divided into working parties, two in each squad, each to work two hours at a time. Preston would direct and assist in the work, from eight until twelve midnight, and I from twelve to four in the morning.

It was necessary to be careful about the construction of the tunnel, as it was to be run under a sentry's feet. If there should happen to be a cave-in and a reb drop down among the toilers, it would be rather embarrassing. Crane's house was built in the Southern style for all wooden buildings, resting on supports about two feet in height. Our objective point was about the centre of his habitation. We could crawl to the other side, and by getting over a board fence would practically become "prisoners-at-large."

The ground was favourable for our work, being composed of stiff red clay. All felt happy and cheerful as the work progressed, and the monotony of being so closely confined was somewhat relieved. On the corner of the square in which the jail was located was the city hall. We could hear the hours and half hours as they were struck, quite plainly, so we had no trouble about the time of quitting work. It was necessary for us to have a point to start our measurements from, and after much discussion, we selected a window-sill in our room directly over the tunnel-shaft. It was a strange place to locate it, but from that point every part of the work was measured to an inch. By fastening a wad of wet paper to a thread we ascertained the exact distance between Crane's house and the inside of the jail wall. One of us held the thread on the window-sill while the other kept throwing the wad until it struck the clapboard. When the sentry walked past our window he gave us the opportunity, and, by lowering the wad to the ground, we got the height of the passage-way which the sentry patroled. The shaft was sunk nine feet, and was considerably lower than the foundation of the building. Then the tunnel was started, being two feet wide and three feet in height, the top being arched. For a distance of fourteen feet it was perfectly level, then it was started on an angle towards the surface of the ground.

About that time we had to stop operations for a few days. Orders had been sent by General Beauregard to put Lieutenant-Commander E. P. Williams and Ensign Benjamin Porter in irons, and hold them as hostages for a rebel naval lieutenant, who was sentenced to be hanged by the Federal Government for piracy on Lake Erie. Williams was selected as the highest in rank, Porter for the reason that he had the most influential friends. The two officers were shackled together, hands and legs, and were doomed to be inseparable companions for the time being, with a chance of being hanged. Not knowing but that the officers or guards might enter our room during the night to look at the hostages, it was deemed advisable to leave the tunnel alone. The handcuffs and shackles were of the old style, shutting together by a spring bolt. To open them the key was inserted, and turning it a number of times would screw the bolt back. The key and spindle had threads cut like a common bolt and nut. Sailors understood the mechanism perfectly. By taking a piece of soft wood the size of the keyhole and boring a hole in the centre slightly smaller than the spindle, and twisting it around in the keyhole, threads would be cut in it, and the handcuffs opened. Another plan was to make a slip-noose of fine twine, and by slipping it over the spindle, the bolt could also be drawn back. During business hours our two unfortunate companions were fettered together, but the remainder of the time they could meander around separately. We had plenty of amusement in drilling them to get into proper position for being shackled as soon as there was any indication of the door being opened.

Supplementary orders soon arrived that Porter and Williams should be confined by themselves in a separate room. A small room next to that of the army officers was selected. Being on the first floor, it was an easy matter for us to release them when we were ready to escape. Work was at once resumed. Our greatest difficulty was in getting candles enough to supply us with light. Finally, the last night's work was finished. The tunnel was twenty-two feet in length. According to our diagram we were six inches from the surface of the ground under Crane's house. We were afraid to make a small hole to the surface to make sure that our measurements were correct, for if there should be any depression in the ground, the first rainstorm would let the water into our excavation. We divided ourselves into parties of two or three, each to select our own route to the Federal lines. A small school atlas was borrowed, and maps made of the different routes we intended to take. Lieutenant Brower, Arrants, and myself decided to go south twenty-five miles, and follow the Santee River east to the sea-coast, then taking our chances of reaching a Federal gunboat. Corn-meal was baked brown, and with a little salt added, by mixing it with water it would be ready for eating. Matches were put into bottles to prevent them from getting wet. In fact, all preparations were made for our journey that we could think of.

It occasionally happens that people make fools of themselves in assisting others. Well, that is just what we did; some of us thought it would not be right to leave the army officers behind. A vote was taken and all were in favour of giving the army officers a chance to go with us. They were notified and one week's time given them in which to get ready. They were instructed to be cautious, and that we would make an opening in their fire-place also as soon as Porter and Williams were released. The latter were to have the first chance for their liberty.