XVIII. — THE UNIFORM.
“I have always observed, general,” said Mr. Nighthawk, raising his eyes in pious meditation, as it were, “that there is no better rule for a man’s conduct in life than to make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness—people in power.”
“A profound maxim,” laughed Stuart; “friends are useful—that was your principle?”
“Yes, general; and I made one of the quartermaster of the post—a certain major Woodby—who was exceedingly fond of the ‘root of all evil.’ I made that gentleman’s acquaintance, applied for the place of sutler in the pen; and this place I acquired by agreeing to pay a heavy bonus in thirty days.
“This was Saturday night. On Monday morning I presented myself before the gate, and demanded admittance as the newly appointed sutler of the pen.
“I was admitted, and taken before the officer of the day, in his quarters.
“‘Who are you?’ he asked, gruffly.
“‘The new sutler, lieutenant.’
“‘Where are your papers?’
“I had them ready, and presented them to him. He read them carefully, looked at me superciliously, and said:—
“‘That is wholly informal.’
“I looked at him. He had a red nose.
“‘I have some excellent French brandy, captain,’ I said, promoting him.
“At sight of the portly flask which I drew half from my pocket and exhibited to him, I saw his face relax.
“‘You are a keen fellow, and know the world, I perceive,’ he said.
“And taking the flask, he poured out nearly a glass full of the brandy, and drank it.
“‘Do you intend to keep that article of brandy?’ he said.
“‘For my friends, captain,’ I replied, with a wink which he evidently understood.
“‘Let me see your papers again.’
“I unfolded them, and he glanced at them.
“‘All right—they are in regular form. There is the key of the sutler’s shop, on that nail. Take possession.’
“And my friend the captain emptied a second glass of the brandy, and made me a sign that I could go.
“I bowed profoundly; took the key; and went and opened the sutler’s shop; after which I strolled out to look at the prisoners in the area. The sentinel had seen me visit the officer of the day, and go to the sutler’s shop.
“Thus he did not interfere with me when I went into the area, as I was obviously a good Union man and an employee of the post.
“Such was the manner in which I secured a private interview with Colonel Mohun: we could talk without the presence of a corporal; and we soon arranged the plan for his escape.
“I had determined to procure a Federal uniform, to be smuggled in to him, and an hour afterward, I left him, promising to see him again as soon as I could visit Wilmington, and return with the intended disguise.
“A strange piece of good fortune aided me, or rather accomplished my purpose at once. I had scarcely returned to the sutler’s shop, and spread some blankets to sleep upon, when the officer of the day came in, and I saw at a glance that he was half intoxicated, in consequence of the large amount of brandy which he had swallowed. In a thick and husky voice he cursed the ‘stuff’ vended at the post, extolled ‘the article’ I carried, and demanded another pull at the flask. I looked at him—saw that a little more would make him dead-drunk—and all at once resolved on my plan.
“This was,” continued Mr. Nighthawk, with modest simplicity, and smiling as he spoke, “to make my friend, the officer of the day, dead-drunk, and then borrow his uniform; and I succeeded. In half an hour he was maudlin. In three-quarters of an hour, drunk. Five minutes afterward he fell out of his chair, and began to snore, where he lay.
“I secured the door tightly, stripped off his uniform, then my own clothing; put on his, and then replaced my own citizen’s dress over all, concealed his cap and boots beneath my overcoat, wrapped the prostrate lieutenant in my blankets for fear he would take cold, and going out, locked the door and proceeded to the quarters of the prisoners. Again the sentinel took no notice of me. I found Colonel Mohun in his ‘bunk.’ Ten minutes afterward he had replaced his gray uniform with that of the Federal lieutenant, and, watching the moment when the back of the sentinel was turned, we walked together toward the gate of the pen.
“That was the moment of real danger. Outside the narrow gate another sentinel was posted, and the man might be personally acquainted with the officer of the day, or have noticed his appearance. Luckily, the guard had been relieved about an hour before—the new sentinel had not seen the officer of the day—and when Colonel Mohun put his head through the little window beside the gate, ordering ‘Open!’ the gate flew open, the sentinel presented arms as he passed, and I followed modestly—the door banging-to behind us."{1}
{Footnote 1: Fact.}