“That rumor, oh no! It is the best sign of all. They never fail to get up such rumors when they are being beaten. Don’t you remember how, just before Vicksburg surrendered, we used to hear that Breckenridge had taken Baton Rouge, and Taylor was besieging New Orleans, and Lee had burnt Philadelphia?”
“Oh no,” said everybody, stoutly, “there is no danger. And how can there be? We know that there is nothing down there but a little mud fort, with fifty men in it, and six forty-two pounders. Our hundred-pound Parrots will knock it to pieces, and a couple of companies can carry it by assault. Oh no, all I am afraid of is, that we shall be run off, nobody knows where.”
The whistle sounded and we waited for the news. The track ran through a deep cutting, which at first hid the body of the cars from our sight, but a man stood on the roof of the foremost baggage car and waved his hat. Presently a howl was given by those of our guard who were waiting at the station.
“What can that mean?” said everybody. “Very strange! surely there can be no bad news for us.”
The next moment, some one exclaimed, “Good heavens, what a sight! Look there!” I looked; the train was covered with the blue-jackets of our navy.
The officers of the “Clifton” and “Sachem” did not accompany their men. We heard that they were guilty of spiking their cannon, flooding their magazines, secreting their money, and other like offences, for which they were kept at Houston; later, however, they unexpectedly came up. A new Captain, who then commanded Camp Groce, ushered them in, and we welcomed them. The youngest of us then had been prisoners more than three months, and felt ourselves to be “old prisoners.” The Captain of the “Clifton” supped with us, and as he surveyed our little shanty, replete with black-jack lines, hat-racks of curiously twisted branches, knives, and spoons, and salt-cellars, neatly carved from wood, and pipes fashioned out of incomparable corn-cob, he said that these little luxuries made him feel sorry for us, for they showed him what straits we had been reduced to. I felt sorry for him as he said it, for the speech reminded me of the lessons reserved for him to learn. Later than usual we retired, excited with this unusual event. The barracks had just grown quiet, when the Captain in command suddenly re-appeared, his guard at his back. “The gentlemen who arrived to-day,” he said, in an agitated voice, “will please to rise immediately.” The new-comers rose, groped round for clothes and baggage in the dark; and as they dressed, asked what all this meant. The Captain vouchsafed no reply, but in a still more agitated voice, begged them to be as quick as possible. Whether they were going to be searched, or executed, or sent back to Houston, nobody could determine. They were marched off, and we, now wide awake, discussed the matter for some hours. The next morning disclosed our friends haplessly shivering around a small building, some three hundred yards distant. It appeared that strict orders had been sent up with the prisoners, directing that they should be confined separately, and hold no communication with us. The now unhappy Captain had not thought it worth while to read his orders until bed-time. Then he stumbled on the fiat of the stern Provost Marshal General, whose chief delight was to court-martial Confederate captains. Deeply dismayed, he had rushed to the guard-house for his guard, to the barracks for his prisoners, and executed the painful work of separation.
The Provost Marshal General had not enclosed subsistence in his order. In the absence of dodger-pots, the “old prisoners” had to take care of these new ones. We were not allowed to write or talk, to send messages or to receive them. The baskets, as they went and came, were searched, the dodgers broken open, and everything was done in a very military and terrible way. In a few days we received a present of pea-nuts from our friends. We were not fond of pea-nuts, and did not appreciate the gift. The basket travelled over as usual with their dinner, but carried no acknowledgment of the pea-nuts. In the afternoon Lieutenant Dane, of the signal corps, was seen approaching our lines with a prize—a prize that had neither predecessor nor successor—a leg of mutton. The lieutenant delivered the mutton across the line to one of us, and the notability of the event warranted him in saying before the guard:
“This is a present from Major Barnes. Did you get the pea-nuts we sent you this morning?”
“Yes, yes,” responded Captain Dillingham, on behalf of our mess; “yes, they’re very nice. We are much obliged to you.”
“Eat them,” said the lieutenant, “eat them. They won’t hurt you—eat them all.”