<h3><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV.</SPAN></h3>
<div class="chapquot">
<div>
<p>Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows.</p>
<p class="citation">Tempest.</p>
</div>
</div>
<div class="sidenote">Assistance from a Negro Boy.</div>
<p>Several days of our confinement in Castle Thunder were spent in a
little cell with burglars, thieves, "bounty-jumpers," and confidence
men. Our association with these strange companions happened in this
wise:</p>
<p>One day we completed an arrangement with a corporal of the guard,
by which, with the aid of four of his men, he was to let us out at
midnight. We had a friend in Richmond, but did not know precisely
where his house was situated. We were very anxious to learn, and
fortunately, on this very day, he sent a meal to a prisoner in our
room. Recognizing the plate, I asked the intelligent young Baltimore
negro who brought it:</p>
<p>"Is my friend waiting below?"</p>
<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
<p>"Can't you get me an opportunity to see him for one moment?"</p>
<p>"I think so, sir. Come with me and we will try."</p>
<p>The boy led me through the passages and down the stairs, past four
guards, who supposed that he had been sent by the prison authorities.
As we reached the lower floor, I saw my friend standing in the
street door, with two officers of the prison beside him. By a look I
beckoned him. He walked toward me and I toward him,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</SPAN></span>
until we met at the little railing which separated us. There, over
the bayonet of the sentinel, this whispered conversation followed:</p>
<p>"We hope to get out to-night; can we find refuge in your
house?"</p>
<p>"Certainly. At what hour will you come?"</p>
<p>"We hope, between twelve and one o'clock. Where is your place?"</p>
<div class="sidenote">The Prison Officers Enraged.</div>
<p>He told me the street and number. By this time, the Rebel
officers, discovering what was going on, grew indignant and very
profane. They peremptorily ordered my friend into the street. He
went out wearing a look of mild and injured innocence. The negro had
shrewdly slipped out of sight the moment he brought us together, and
thus escaped severe punishment.</p>
<p>The officers ordered me back to my quarters, and as I went up the
stairs, I heard a volley of oaths. They were not especially incensed
at me, recognizing the fact that a prisoner under guard has a right
to do any thing he can; but were indignant and chagrined at that want
of discipline which permitted an inmate of the safest apartment in
the Castle to pass four sentinels to the street door, and converse
with an unauthorized person.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Visit from a Friendly Woman.</div>
<p>Ten minutes after, a boy came up from the office, with the
message—this time genuine—that another visitor wished to
see me. I went down, and there, immediately beyond the bars through
which we were allowed to communicate with outsiders, I saw a lady
who called me by name. I did not recognize her, but her eyes told
me that she was a friend. A Rebel officer was standing near, to see
that no improper communication passed between us. She conversed upon
indifferent subjects, but soon found opportunity for saying:</p>
<p>"I am the wife of your friend who has just left you.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</SPAN></span>
He dared not come again. I succeeded in obtaining admission. I
have a note for you. I cannot give it to you now, for this officer
is looking; but, when I bid you good-by, I will slip it into your
hand."</p>
<p>The letter contained the warmest protestations of friendship,
saying:</p>
<p>"We will do any thing in the world for you. You shall have shelter
at our house, or, if you think that too public, at any house you
choose among our friends. We will find you the best pilot in Richmond
to take you through the lines. We will give you clothing, we will
give you money—every thing you need. If you wish, we will
send a half dozen young men to steal up in front of the Castle at
midnight; and, for a moment, to throw a blanket over the head of each
of the sentinels who stand beside the door."</p>
<p>At one o'clock that night, the Rebel corporal came to our door and
said, softly:</p>
<p>"All things are ready; I have my four men at the proper posts; we
can pass you to the street without difficulty. Should you meet any
pickets beyond, the countersign for to-night is 'Shiloh.' I know you
all, and implicitly trust you; but some of my men do not, and before
passing out your party of six, they want to see that you have in your
possession the money you propose to give us" (seventy dollars in
United States currency, together with two gold watches).</p>
<p>This request was reasonable, and Bulkley handed his portion of the
money to the corporal. A moment later he returned with it from the
gas-light, and said:</p>
<p>"There is a mistake about this. Here are five one-dollar notes, not
five-dollar notes."</p>
<p>My friend was very confident there was no error; and we were forced
to the conclusion that the guards designed
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</SPAN></span>
to obtain our money without giving us our liberty. So the plan was
baffled.</p>
<p>The next morning proved that the corporal was right. My friend
<em>had</em> offered him the wrong roll of notes. We hoped very shortly to
try again, but considerable finessing was required to get the right
sentinels upon the right posts. Before it could be done we were
placed in a dungeon, on the charge of attempting to escape. We were
kept there ten days.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Shut up in a Cell.</div>
<p>Our fellows in confinement were the burglars and confidence
men—"lewd fellows of the baser sort," without principle or
refinement, living by their wits. They frankly related many of
their experiences in enlisting and re-enlisting for large bounties
as substitutes in the Rebel service; decoying negroes from their
masters, and then selling them; stealing horses, etc. But they
treated us with personal courtesy, and though their own rations were
wretchedly short, never molested our dried beef, hams, and other
provisions, which any night they could safely have purloined.</p>
<p>Small-pox was very prevalent during the winter months. An Illinois
prisoner, named Putman, had a remarkable experience. He was first
vaccinated, and two or three days after, attacked with varioloid.
Just as he recovered from that, he was taken with malignant
small-pox, while the vaccine matter was still working in his arm,
which was almost an unbroken sore from elbow to shoulder. In a few
weeks he returned to the prison with pits all over his face as large
as peas. Small-pox patients were sometimes kept in our close room
for two or three days after the eruptions appeared. One of my own
messmates barely survived this disease.</p>
<p>We were allowed to purchase whatever supplies the Richmond market
afforded, and to have our meals prepared
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</SPAN></span>
in the prison kitchen, by paying the old negro who presided there.
These were privileges enjoyed by none of the other inmates.
Supplies commanded very high prices; it was a favorite jest in
the city, that the people had to carry money in their baskets and
bring home marketing in their porte-monnaies. Our mess consisted
of the four correspondents and Mr. Charles Thompson, a citizen
of Connecticut, whose Democratic proclivities, age, and gravity,
invariably elected him spokesman when we wished to communicate with
the prison authorities. As they regarded us with special hostility,
we kept in the back-ground; but Mr. Thompson's quiet tenacity,
which no refusal could dishearten, and the "greenbacks" which no
<span lang="fr">attaché</span> could resist, secured us many
favors.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Stealing from Flag-of-Truce Letters.</div>
<p>Northern letters from our own families reached us with
considerable regularity. Those sent by other persons were mostly
withheld. Robert Ould, the Rebel Commissioner of Exchange, with petty
malignity, never permitted one of the many written from <cite>The
Tribune</cite> office to reach us. All inclosures, excepting money,
and sometimes including it, were stolen with uniform consistency. I
finally wrote upon one of my missives, which was to go North:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>"Will the person who systematically abstracts newspaper slips,
babies' pictures, and postage-stamps from my letters, permit the
inclosed little poem to reach its destination, unless entirely
certain that it is contraband and dangerous to the public
service?"</p>
</div>
<p>Apparently a little ashamed, the Rebel censor thereafter ceased
his peculations.</p>
<p>For a time, boxes of supplies from the North were forwarded to
us with fidelity and promptness. Supposing that this could not last
long, we determined to make hay while the sun shone. One day, dining
from the contents
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</SPAN></span>
of a home box, in cutting through the butter, my knife struck
something hard. We sounded, and brought to the surface a little
phial, hermetically sealed. We opened it, and there found
"greenbacks!"</p>
<p>Upon that hint we acted. While it was impossible to obtain letters
from the North, we could always smuggle them thither by exchanged
prisoners, who would sew them up in their clothing, or in some other
manner conceal them. We immediately began to send many orders for
boxes; all but two or three came safely to hand, and "brought forth
butter in a lordly dish." Treasury notes were also sent bound in
covers of books so deftly as to defy detection. One of my messmates
thus received two hundred and fifty dollars in a single Bible. The
supplies of money, obtained in this manner, lasted through nearly all
our remaining imprisonment, and were of infinite service.</p>
<div class="sidenote">Paroles Repudiated by the Rebels.</div>
<p>All the prisoners who were taken to Richmond with us had received
identically the same paroles. In every case, except ours, the Rebels
recognized the paroles, and sent the persons holding them through
the lines. But they utterly disregarded ours. We felt it a sort of
duty to keep them occasionally reminded of their solemn, deliberate,
written obligation to us. We first did this through our attorney,
General Humphrey Marshall, of Kentucky. His relations with Robert
Ould were very close. Upon receiving heavy fees in United States
currency, he had secured the release of several citizens, after all
other endeavors failed. The prisoners believed that Ould shared the
fees.</p>
<p>General Marshall made a strong statement of our case in writing,
adding to the application for release:</p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>"I am instructed by these gentlemen not to ask any favors at your
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</SPAN></span>
hands, but to enforce their clear, legal, unquestionable rights under
this parole."</p>
</div>
<p>Commissioner Ould indorsed upon this application that he repudiated
the parole altogether. In reporting to us, General Marshall said:</p>
<p>"I don't feel at liberty to accept a fee from you, because I consider
your case hopeless."</p>
<div class="sidenote">Sentenced to the Salisbury Prison.</div>
<p>Early in the new year, we addressed a memorial to Mr. Seddon, the
Rebel Secretary of War, in which we attempted to argue the case upon
its legal merits, and to prove what a flagrant, atrocious violation
of official faith was involved in our detention. We plumed ourselves
a good deal on our legal logic, but Mr. Seddon returned a very
convincing refutation of our argument. He simply wrote an order that
we be sent to the Rebel penitentiary at Salisbury, North Carolina,
to be held until the end of the war, as hostages for Rebel citizens
confined in the North, and for the general good conduct of our
Government toward them!</p>
<p>Like the historic Roman, content to be refuted by an emperor who
was master of fifty legions, we yielded gracefully to the argument
of the Secretary who had the whole Confederate army at his back; and
thus we were sent to Salisbury.</p>
<div class="sidenote">"<span class="smcap">Abolitionists Before the
War.</span>"</div>
<p>On the night before our departure, the warden, a Maryland refugee,
named Wiley, ordered us below into a very filthy apartment, to be
ready for the morning train. We appealed to Captain Richardson,
Commandant of the Castle, who, countermanding the order, permitted
us to remain in our own more comfortable quarters during the night.
Ten minutes after, one of the little negroes came to our room, and,
beckoning me to bend down, he whispered:</p>
<p>"What do you think Mr. Wiley says about Captain
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</SPAN></span>
Richardson's letting you stay here to-night? As soon as the Captain
went out, he said: 'It's a shame for Richardson and Browne to receive
so many more favors than the other prisoners. Why, ---- ---- them,
they were Abolitionists before the war!'"</p>
<p>On the way to Salisbury we were very closely guarded, but there
were many times during the night when we might easily have jumped
from the car window.</p>
<p>At Raleigh, a pleasant little city of five thousand people, named
in honor of the great Sir Walter, the temptation was very strong. In
the confusion and darkness through which we passed from one train to
another, we might easily have eluded the guards; but we were feeble,
a long distance from our army lines, and quite unfamiliar with the
country. It was a golden opportunity neglected; for it is always
comparatively easy for captives to escape while <span lang="la">in
transitu</span>, and very difficult when once within the walls of a
military prison.</p>
<p>On the evening of February 3d we reached Salisbury, and were taken
to the Confederate States Penitentiary. It was a brick structure, one
hundred feet by forty, four stories in hight, originally erected for
a cotton-factory. In addition to the main building, there were six
smaller ones of brick, which had formerly been tenement houses; and
a new frame hospital, with clean hay mattresses for forty patients.
The buildings, which would hold about five hundred prisoners, were
all filled. Confederate convicts, Yankee deserters, about twenty
enlisted men of our navy and three United States officers confined
as hostages, one hundred and fifty Southern Unionists, and fifty
northern citizens, composed the inmates. </p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</SPAN></span></p>
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