“Yes, Sam, you've arrived at your proper destination, and now you've got to be flogged every day, until your sins are all paid for.”
“Oh, massa, spare a poor cullered boy who neber did nuffing wuss den steal a chicken, or grab a few eggs. Neber did no mo'.” And falling on his knees he began to jabber away in pure fright.
“Get up, you black rascal; you're in the Union lines now,” Sergeant Harmon said, as he pulled the shaking darkey to his feet.
“Bress de Lawd! In de Union? I'se whar I'll git sumfin to eat, now, sure.”
“How far did you come, Sam?”
“Bout free miles. I'se come to stay, too. I'll neber go back dar any mo'.”
And Black Sam did stay, and made one of the most faithful of servants. He often referred to his first appearance among the soldiers. When the mine exploded at Fort Hill, it killed the two white men, but by some miracle Sam escaped, and when he recovered consciousness, and found himself surrounded by men black with powder and dust, he had really fancied that he had landed in a certain world where they tell us cold is unknown.
Day after day the noise of the great guns was heard. Shells were thrown into the beleaguered town, and much injury was inflicted. Vicksburg at this time might be called a city of caves, for they were dug in the banks wherever a street was cut through a clayey hill, and these caves were tenanted by entire families, who lived in comparative safety, while shells and balls were whizzing over their heads. Nor did the darkness bring a cessation of hostilities, the night proving no barrier to Grant's vigorous attack. As the two lines came nearer together, a mutual understanding was had, after this fashion:
“Well, Yank, how are you getting along?”
“Oh, fine. We'll soon be over there to see you. Have the ice-cream and cake all ready, for it's a hot day.”