Daring and Suffering:

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We never omitted our devotions. For awhile the deserters outside, who
were composed of the very scum 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 passed 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 passage 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."

[11] A letter was received from one of them by my father a short time
ago. He had not heard of our release, but described our parting, and
gave a rumor which he had heard of our subsequent execution.

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 passing at each door
through successive relays of guards, all of which had a reserve ready
to cooeperate 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 substituting
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 passed, 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 assault.

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
God, 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 passes, 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 massacre. 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 passed 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 basement 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 circumstances. 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 amusements 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 mass, 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 constitute 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 petitioned 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 passed
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:

"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 destitute 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 scrap 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."

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